265 Days
by BFTLandMWandSEK
Summary: Capitals Rome, Ottawa and Mexico City are new arrivals at the World Acedemy. After meeting some of the countries, the girls decide to get their crushes to fall in love with them-a task they only have 265 days to manage. UK/Germany/Russia Fangirls FLUFF! DROPPED
1. Registration Day

**MW: Alright two days and it's done!**

**BFTL: Now what? Do we publish it?**

**MW: Mmmmh**

**BFTL: Ah seriously?**

**SEK: Shut up guys! okay people this is our first story we are putting up on this site, so please, when you read it dont hesitate to review and tell us what you think as we are still a bit unfamiliar on how all of this goes. please keep the flames down.**

**BFTL: *puts down flame-thrower* dang.**

**MW: You always ruin all the fun, SEK!**

**Disclaimer: we do not own Hetalia. we are not going to say it in every chapter so this is all you get. we do however own the OCs.**

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><p>To start things off, there are way more than just countries in this world. There are cites, capitals, states, provinces, etc. But you guys are only aware of the countries because if you look at a world map, they say in bold print COUNTRY. Never CALIFORNIA or HON KONG, always COUNTRY.<p>

You guys get the point.

Anyways, to bring about world peace, the countries' bosses forced all the countries to attend a high school. This high school was World Academy. After some time, the countries (being the brats they are) decided to drag us capitals, states, provinces (etc.) into their suffering.

Long story short, World Academy is now opening its doors of it's the pains and sufferings of high school to us nobodies.

Great.

Two capitals, Abella or also known as Ella Mendez, Natale Letrah, (Mexico City and Rome respectively) were shuffled together into a group for their registration for the World Academy. After a round of quick introductions the actual work began.

"Ve~ this is so heavy." Natale whined under the weight of the schoolbooks. The Italian capital, a bit shorter that average, grit her teeth, struggling to lift the heavy load. she auburn curl, a lot similar to big brother Italy's and Romano's, bounced defiantly and her dark amber eyes were sealed tightly shut.

Miss Mexico glared over, annoyed. She looked a lot like Spain: long, brown, curly hair and green eyes. She was just a bit under average height. Without another word, "Here, dame los libros," she said, taking all of the books out of Rome's hand before she could complain again.

"No I've got it!" The Italian whined again. They both tussled a little bit. Ella didn't like being told what to do and Natale didn't like letting others do her work. But already they had become friends, so their relationship was in no danger.

Due to Natale's clumsiness, they tripped and fell. When they opened their eyes again, they saw that they were not in fact on the ground but...floating just a bit off the ground, even though they felt as though they were laying on something. They both were a bit confused until Ella gave the seemingly empty space an experimental poke.

A soft "Oww…" could be heard from underneath them. They both jumped up at lightning speed and started freaking out a little bit in their native languages.

"Roma nonno è tornato dalla morte!" Rome shrieked. Ella got freaked out enough to start cussing in Spanish a little bit.

"Why did you guys do that?" The same small voice asked from the ground. When they both turned back they saw a short girl with wavy blonde hair and grayish blue eyes.

"Eh, perdono, who are you? And how long have you been laying there?" the Italian asked confusedly.

"I've been here ever since you guys fell on me." The girl responded shyly. They both quickly apologized and Ella pulled the new girl to her feet. She must have done it a bit too hard as she stumbled.

"Sorry, most people think I'm to strong for my own good." Ella smiled apologetically. The Mexican and the Italian looked over the girl dubiously. She was just so… awkward. They instantly took to her.

"Uhh, hi. My name is Melinda O'Neil, also known as Ottawa." Melinda explained. The other capitals cocked their heads in confusion. "You know, the capital of Canada?"

"Where?" Natale asked with an expression on her face that showed she was thinking a bit too hard.

Ella rested a tan hand on the Italians head, "Don't hurt yourself mija. But yea, I think I remember where Canada is…" That seemed to appease the Canadian, as a look of joy crossed her face.

Natale couldn't constrain herself any longer. She launched herself in Melinda's direction and engulfed her in a hug. "CAN WE KEEP HER?" she shouted for all of the world to hear.

The third and tannest of them all came over and separated the two easily. "Oye, keep it down." Ella hissed. "Sure, that is if she wants to come."

"Oh, yeah, sure that would be nice…" she said in that permanently quiet voice of hers.

"Okay then, come on!" Rome grabbed Ottawa's arm and lead her away. Mexico City face-palmed and she informed them they were in fact going the wrong way.

Natale released Melinda's arm and snapped her fingers together. "I planned that," she educated.

Ella rolled her eyes and said, "Come on, lets go pick up our pets." This was the last part of registration, they just had to pick up their pets and head for the dorms, as the trio decided they were going to share one. Melinda almost fainted when she saw a miniature sheep jump into Natale's arms.

"BERNARD! I've missed you so much! Whose my favorite robo-sheep!" The Italian cooed to the fluffy sheep. It bleated in response. It was a real sheep but for some reason there was a collar of Christmas lights around it's neck and Natale called it a robo-sheep as she pulled it onto her head.

"Ahhh! I'm allergic to robo-sheep!" the Canadian cried as she cradled her pet beaver to her chest. Meanwhile Ella was watching the whole scene happen before her as she let her pet iguana, Monty, curl around her shoulders.

"Come on guys, we can't be late for dinner." she reminded them. They dropped their stuff off at the dorm and made their way to the dining hall. The people sat by continent so there were five long tables in the hall: Asia, North America, South America, Europe, and Africa and Australia shared the same table. They all said their goodbyes and headed off to their respective tables, Ella and Melinda going to the North American table.

"Hey, Que tal?" Ella said casually as she sat down. She stayed there until she saw someone she recognized at this table. She strode over and poked him in the head.

"Hola, America its been a while hasn't it?" she said briskly.

"No, my name is Canada," he said shaking Ella's hand. "It's nice to meet you…"

"Mexico."

Canada looked confused.

"Mexico city" Ella explained

After the introductions were over she went back to sit by Melinda and the real America.

"Hey, Mexi!" he screamed even though she was sitting right next to him. "Long time, no see!"

"Hello Alfred," 'Mexi' said while America flicked that ridiculous lock of hair he calls Nantucket. She flinched a little bit at the contact. "Don't shout when I'm so close to you! I'm not deaf you know." The rest of dinner continued in a similar manner.

Rome was talking to the Italy brothers and sitting right next to who she assumed was Germany. Ottawa, Mexico City, and Rome were taking the chance to look all around the hall at people they didn't know. Being capitals they didn't leave their countries much, so they never really met any of the other countries.

"Big brother, who's that?" Melinda asked, pointing to a stage at the end of the hall. On the stage was a blond man with ridiculously thick eyebrows. He was speaking into a microphone, trying to act cool as a blond french man tried placing his hand onto the speaker's butt.

Melinda's big brother, Mathew Williams, looked at the scene. "That's the school president," he stated softly.

"Alright students!" the Brit yelled. "Now time for the school ru- GET YOUR HAND AWAY FROM THERE, YOU BLOODY FROG!"

The french man grinned. "Mon cher, your all too modest." At this he leaned into him and whispered "And besides, I know you like it."

"No I do not!"

At this, Alfred jumped onto the Northern American table and pointed at the stage. "Ahahahahahaha! I, the hero, will entertain the world much better!" Being the person he is, America ran up to the stage and stole the microphone. "Alright! This is Alfred F. Jones here! Ready to make your day awesome!"

"Awesome?" Someone from the European table demanded. There was a bang as a tall albino man with silver hair and red eyes slammed his hands onto the table and stood. "Excuse me? I, Gilbert Beilschmidt, will supply the awesomeness here!" And thus, the German ran up to the stage and started to wrestle the American for the microphone.

"Will you wankers stop it!" the school president demanded. When the two didn't stop, he sighed and called out, "Hey Ludwig! Will you stop them please?"

"Nah," the German sitting next to Italy replied, knowing better than to get caught up in that mess.

A tall, gray haired man picked the two brawling countries up by their collars. He grinned and dropped them off the stage. As silently as he came, he left.

The president sighed. "Alright, I guess that ends the presentation." The hall was filled with the muttering of countries and capitals gathering their stuff and leaving. As if just realizing something the Brit turned towards the french man. "And Francis."

"Hmm?"

"Get your Godforsaken hand off my Goddamn butt!"

"You just now realize that?"

"NOW!"

Each of the capitals had someone catch their eyes by the end of dinner, and they were only too happy to

tell each other about it when they returned to the dorms.

"Ve~ I don't remember Germany being quite that cute." Rome gushed.

"Who was that super muscular pale boy over at Asia's table? The really tall one that dealt with America and that crazy German?" Ella said while trying to remember if she had ever seen him before.

"And that one with the huge eyebrows?" Melinda said.

"Oh, that's England." Ella supplied.

Suddenly Rome took the Canadian city by the shoulders and shook her violently. "STAY AWAY FROM HIS COOKING IF YOU WANT TO LIVE!" The mortified Italian pulled away mumbling something about poisonous, petrified couch stuffing.

"Okay, I'll remember. Its just… those eyebrows~"

The other two capitals shared a thought: We've lost her.

"How about…" Ella had a devious look on her face. "By the end of the year prom, we will have these boys as our dates. Think the two of you can handle it?"

"That sounds… kind of abusive…" Melinda stated before Natale came and, with a single sweep of her arm, knocked the Canadian over.

"Is that a CHALLENGE?"

Ella loved manipulating people. "If you want it to be pasta-girl. Think your up for it?" Ella knew she'd won.

"I can handle anything you can dish out!"

"Alright then. We start tomorrow. Now, buenas noches."

"Buonanotte~"

During this entire exchange Malinda had not said a single word, but secretly she was excited: would she really get to talk to England?

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><p><strong>SEK: the next chapter will be up in a few days. Then we get to meet the other characters. (really hot guys)<strong>


	2. Meet the Hot Guys

Chapter2: Meet the Hot Guys

The next day the girls split up to go to their respective classes with a unanimous goal in mind: to gather information on their hopefully future dates.

Ella Mendez

Ella headed off to first period science lecture. She had the same class as Mindy, but she didn't think she would sit next to her today; she had business to attend to. She wormed her way next to the sleeping America again, determined to interrogate him about the boy she saw at dinner yesterday. She ushered Monty onto America's head because she wanted to wake him up but not touch him as she had something in her hands.

"What happened?" he asked dazedly as he looked around trying to remember where he was, before he laughed madly and looked down shouting something at the teacher about Canadians. "Now what is it you wanted Mexi?" he managed to get one coherent sentence out before he noticed the hamburger in Ella's hands.

" Who~," Ella began, "was the tall pale boy sitting at the Asian table yesterday? He had grayish hair and almost purple eyes. Ring any bells? He was the tallest one there."

A strange look crossed his face, as if it caused him pain to remember "Oh no, it wasn't Russia was it?" Now he looked positively scared. "You didn't get in trouble with him did you? Because, I wont cover for you." That was enough information for Ella. She was going to have to get to know him somehow. During her musings she didn't notice that Monty and Alfred had begun fighting over the hamburger.

"No, no get away you lizard thing! This is the hero's hamburger! It is not available for lizard consumption. AAAHHHHH!" The still classroom air was disrupted by America's shrill shriek of pain. Ms. Egypt looked over at America wondering what just happened.

"Ah, seriously? Did your lizard just bite my finger? What for!" America was outraged.

"Mmmhmm. Here lets go to the infirmary." Ella ushered America to his feet and pried her iguana off his hand, placing him about her shoulders whispering "_What a good lizard~._" They walked to the infirmary without much incident but when they got there, it was already occupied.

Russia was there standing next to another boy that looked about two feet shorter than him. The short boy looked like he was in some pain.

"Okay, Mister Latvia, what happened to you?" the nurse, Mr. Roman Empire asked.

But Latvia never replied. It was Russia that spoke next, in a deep Russian accent that Ella couldn't help but love instantly. "Latvia here might have dislocated some of his vertebrae while he was doing some stretching."

"Okay then, come this way. Oh America! Come here so I can bandage your hand and then you may leave." he said noticing Alfred's rapidly bleeding hand. "Miss Mexico, we should only be a moment."

Russia and Ella took seats in the plain white waiting room.

"_Privet,_ I have never seen you before, who are you?" Russia asked in that smooth voice of his.

"Umm..." _Oh wow Ella, very articulate_. she thought to herself. "Eh, _hola._ My name is Abella Mendez, but please call me Ella. I represent Mexico City. And you?"

"Da, my name is Ivan Braginski and I am Russia." And that's how the conversation went when America came back from behind the curtain.

"Dude, keep your lizard away from me from now on." America pouted as he cradled his arm to his chest. "Okay lets go now." America grabbed Mexi's hand and began to drag her away. She got enough time to look back and say one final sentence.

"_Adios_ Russia, I hope to see you soon."

"_Do svidaniya_!" he waved, and Ella and Alfred walked back to class.

Melinda O'Neil

Melinda sat quietly in her seat next to the provinces of Canada, with the country himself to her right. Everyone but the Canadians were noisy and throwing stuff about while the science professor, Ms. Eygpt, tried to take attendance. "Justin, do you think that Eyebrows likes me?" she asked her pet beaver.

The beaver (who's name was actually Jack) looked at her. "Who are you?"  
>"I'm Ottawa."<p>

the professor looked up from her chart, confused."Why is there a completely empty row down there?" she demanded.

Alfred quickly stood onto his desk and proclaimed, "Hahahahahahahahaha! The hero will clarify this up! Professor! That is the row of Canadians!"

They all looked at each other with a sigh. Alfred was...scary...

"Well if there is a pack of Canadians there, then will Miss Ottawa please take the attendance to the office?" The capital stood and did as she was told. It took a few seconds to actually let her presence known, but when it was, she received the yellow envelope and was off.

Walking down the empty halls, Ottawa tried to remember her way around. "Justin, are we going the right way?" she asked uncertainly.

The beaver gave his usual reply. "Who are you?"

"I'm-OOF!" She stumbled back, having just ran into someone. Surprised, she auto- matically started apologizing. "I'm so sorry I just didn't see you there and-"

The guy laughed. "It's alright," he said with a heavy British accent. "What kind of a gentleman would I be to let a lady apologize to me?"

Melinda looked up and saw that it was no other than... "Eyebrows!" she exclaimed. Quickly realizing her mistake, she blushed furiously and began speaking nonsense. "I mean hot no um the a um- I don't know your name!"

He looked at her as if she was crazy, which in fact, was haft true. "I'm Arthur Kirkland, the school president, though you may call me England."

"Your friends with big brother right?" Melinda said happily, recognizing his name.

"Who is your big brother?"

"Canada."

"Oh." He stood there for a second thinking to himself as the capital nervously twiddled with her thumbs. " If Canada's your big brother, then you are a student here and is no doubt skipping class."

"What? But the professor just told me to drop off attendance!"

Arthur took the envelop from her hands. "As president I can handle that. SEYCHELLES!" From an empty classroom came a shortish African girl. She wore a blue dress and styled her hair in pig tails tied off with red ribbons. Around her neck, however, there was a dog collar. She was very pretty. Melinda couldn't help but to feel a pang of jealousy.

Aurthur nodded to her "Can you please escort miss-"

"Ottawa."

"Ottawa back to the North American classroom?"

Seychelles nodded. "Yes England." Taking the Canadians hand, Seychelles began dragging Ottawa back to her class.

Melinda looked at the African. "Are you friends with Aruthur?" she asked softly.

It took Seychelles a moment to realized that she had spoken. "Mmmhmm."

"Ah seriously?"

"Well I'm actually I'm his colony." She reconsidered.

Jack (a very talkative beaver) asked the question his owner had been thinking of. "Are you two a couple?"

Seychelles shrugged. "I wished," she stated absentmindedly. "But that Francis Bonnefoy is always flirting with him."

_Great, _Melinda thought. It's me against two good looking frenchies. One of which is big brother's big brother!

Coming upon the North American classroom, the colony let the capital go. Melinda sighed and returned to her seat. Despite all the bad news, she had at least met Eyebrows in person. That should count for something, right?

Natale Letrah

They were all in their PE class and truth be told, Rome knew all of the capitals and provinces and didn't know a lot of the countries. She knew Italy, Romano, and Austria, with an overprotective Bernard on her head wearing his flashing Christmas lights proudly and _baa_ing at anyone who dared to touch her curl. There was Germany who she hardly knew at all.

But that would certainly change, wouldn't it?

"Hey, Rome!" Italy called her over. "You can sit by us, ve~?"

They sat down on the hard floor of the gym, and waited for Mr. Germania. Spain, for once, wasn't talking to Romano (only having his arm strung around his tomato-red Italian boyfriend's shoulder) and instead was having a riveting conversation with Greece:

"Mmmhmm." the Greek would say.

"Oh, seriously?" replied the Spaniard.

"Mmmhmm."

"Oh, seriously?"

"Mmmhmm."

"Oh,seriously?"

"Mmmhmm."

"Oh, seriously?"

"Mmmhmm."

"Oh,seriously?"

"Mmmhmm."

"Oh, seriously?"

"Mmmhmm."

"Oh,seriously?"

"Mmmhmm."

"Oh, seriously?"

"Mmmhmm."

"Oh, seri-?"

"You two!"

That was Mr. Germania. The Spaniard and the Greek stopped talking and snapped to attention. He glared his sharp blue eyes and cleared his throat. "Today, we will be playing dodge ball."

They were separated into two teams: Countries VS Capitals & Provinces. Rome recognised everyone on her team except two who only took aim at Austria. One of them shouted nothing but "I AM LASHING OUT AT YOU!" and the other yelled "THINGS ARE TURBULENT!"

Bernard was BAAAAAAAAAing wildly as Rome moved about trying not to get hit with the ball. She caught sight of Italy, who was cowering profusely in the middle of the court. Berlin threw a ball at him, but Germany easily reached over and caught it, throwing it back at Berlin and putting her on the sidelines. _He's so brave._ Rome thought to herself.

Unfortunately, she was so absorbed in her fantasies that she didn't notice the ball coming right at her face until it was only three inches from her. "Ow!" Rome rubbed her forehead and gladly walked to the sidelines, where she sat next to Romano.

Thankfully, the bad-mouthed Italian didn't mind girls as much as he hated other guys. "You ok?" he asked.

Rome nodded, rubbing her forehead and staring back at Germany. Romano noticed and scoffed. "Something wrong, Romano?" Rome dared to ask.

"That damn potato bastard." he grumbled.

"What's wrong?" Rome asked, a tone of complete and utter confusion seeping into her voice.

"He won't leave my brother alone."

"What's wrong with that?" she asked. "You don't seem to have a problem with Spain-"

"Don't tell me another word about that damn tomato-_bastardo_."

"Alright, alright. No need to get so pushy about it."

"Hmph." Romano grumbled, crossing his arms and glaring at the German. "I wish he didn't hang around Italy so much."

Rome and Bernard stopped dead and looked at each other. "_Really_?"

"Uh-huh."

Bernard let out a baa that really seemed to sound like an, "Oh, seriously."

Romano glared at the sheep, and Bernard's Christmas light collar flashed red.

_Later, at the dorms..._

"Okay guys, anything accomplished today?" Ella asked in a manner similar to America.

"Oh Ella!" a voice coming from the ceiling whines.

"Oh yea, that's were Melinda sleeps." Rome noted looking up to a hammock hanging from the ceiling.

"Not only do I have competition, but he might be gay!" she mourned

"How much competition are we talking about?" Mexico City asked.

"France and Seychelles!"

"I REMEMBER SEYCHELLES!" Rome suddenly exploded. "I remember this one time in the fifth grade-"

She was cut off by Ella's hand being placed over her mouth, none to gently. "Continue." she said glaring at Rome.

"How am i supposed to compete, a simple Canadian, against two Frenchies?"

"Okay... Roma, your next: how did it go with Germany?"

"Well my competition is with Big Brother Feli. So Loviono and I made a deal. We'll work together to separate Germany from Italy so he can be all mine! MWAHA-"

"Shut-up! People are sleeping next door!"

"So, Ella, did you meet your crush-dude yet?" Rome asked, back to normal.

"Yeah, his name is Russia-"

"RUSSIAAAAAAAAA!" The two other girls began to tremble with fear and hyperventilate at the mere mention of their continental neighbor.

"Whats wrong with you two?" Ella asked confused.

"He just wants to become one with you!" shrieked Mindy.

"I'd do so gladly." Ella said with a dreamy expression upon her face.

"THAT'S NOT WHAT WE MEANT!"


	3. Natale gets stalked and Ella gets a pipe

**BFTL: WAZZUP DUDES?**

**MW: Well, the sky is.**

**SEK: *rolls eyes* Anyway, here's chapter 3. **

**BFTL: I don't feel like putting up the translations for everything, so look them up yourself.**

**SEK: Ignore her. Comments and Review are loved!**

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><p><em>Natale<em>

Rome closed her locker to find Romano leaning against the lockers next to her. "What's your plan?" he asked.

Rome's face fell. "Ve~ I thought you were going to make the plan."

Romano face-palmed and sighed.

"Great, we have no plan. What now?" Rome asked.

Romano looked up. "Oh yes we do! Come with me." He grabbed her hand and ran down the hall.

"_Ve_~!" "_BAAAAAAAAAAA_!" "Where are we going Romano?"

"You'll see." he said. They ran down a couple more hallways before _fratello_ stopped and peeked around the corner. "Alright Rome." he said. "We're gonna go talk to Feli and the potato bastard."

"But I thought you didn't want to talk to Germany."

"I don't. I'm gonna yell at him to get away from Feli. While I distract him, I want you to look inside his locker, ok Roma?"

"Ve~ alright _fratello_."

Romano composed himself, put on his "_maschera di furia_" as he like to call it, and charged around the corner with Natale in tow. He charged straight for the German talking to his brother―but was forced to stop when a big man with curly brown hair, tan skin, and emerald green eyes picked him off the ground and hugged him close.

"Lovi!" he said, swinging Romano back and forth like the little Italian was his long-lost doll or something.

"_Let go of me you tomato bastard_!" Romano screamed.

The man set _fratello_ down with his sunny, warm smile on his face and wrapped an arm around Romano's waist. He gestured to Natale and said, "You haven't introduced me to your capital yet Lovi!"

Romano crossed his arms and growled, looking away. "Roma, this is Spain."

"_Hola_!"

"Ve~ _ciao_!"

"She's just like Feli, eh?" Spain asked, looking down at Romano. Natalie didn't notice and kept staring off into space with that trademark Italian gaze.

"Sorta― _GET YOU'RE DAMN HANDS OF MY WAIST YOU FUCKING TOMATO BASTARD_!"

Spain laughed like the Italian's colorful choice of words was a term of endearment. "Well Roma, Lovi," he said, not taking his hand off Romano, "I'll introduce you two to my capital." He looked over his shoulder and called, "Hey, Barce! Maddie!"

The guy that was flirting with Berlin, Sydney, and Moscow looked up and sighed, walking over to them. "What Boss?" he whined in his adorable Spanish accent. "_Estaba golpeando grande_! Whataya want?"

Natale giggled as a girl taller than both of the Spaniards walked up and smiled, swishing her big yellow and red dress. "_Sí gran hermano_?" she asked with her big smile.

"Lovi, Rome," Spain said, "This is my capital Madrid and Barcelona."

"Barcelona's not your capital." Romano said.

"No. He's my second largest city."

"So why is he here?"

"They let him come." Spain said, tousling Barce's curly brown hair. "Barce, Maddie, this is Lovi and his capital Rome―"

Barce pushed Romano and Spain out of his way and picked up Rome's hands. "Well, hell_ooooooooo_ there, beautiful!" he said kissing her hands and staring at her with his bright, leaf-green eyes. "_Donde han sido toda mi vida_?" he asked.

Rome screamed, "Romano! _Questo ragazzo è completamente pazzo_!"

She ran behind Romano, who pushed Spain away and gave Barce one of his most intimidating stares. "_Tenervi sei mani maledetta dalla mia sorellina_!" he screamed, and if he screamed in Italian, you knew he meant business more than usual.

"Dude! Calm down!" That was America. He found the stupidest moments to budge into the most random conversations. He stepped in beside Romano and laid a jelly-like hand on the firm-as-stone Italian's shoulder. "Chill out!"

"What's wrong Romano?" That was Feli.

Romano obviously wasn't into the mood to talk to his dimwitted brother. He put an arm around the scared-out-of-her-wits Rome and walked her away from the crowd. He called over his shoulder, "_Keep your fat ass away from my sister, Barce_!"

Romano walked Rome back to her room. "The plan didn't go out like you wanted it to, did it?" Rome asked.

"We didn't even get to the plan." he growled. "Do your homework. I'll talk to you tomorrow." He walked off back down the hall.

* * *

><p><em><span>Back in the dorm . . .<span>_

Mexico City and Ottawa walked back in the room to find the lights out and Rome nowhere to be seen. "Natale?" Melinda called.

There were small little breathing noises coming from underneath the bed. Ella knealed down and found Natale hugging Bernard like her life depended on it; in Bernard's mouth, held in a posture that told he was ready to lash out at whatever came near, was a small plastic knife like the ones in the cafeteria. "Natale?" Ella asked.

"Is he here?" she whispered, casting her eyes around frantically.

"What?"

"Barce!" Natale whispered fiercely.

"Who?"

Natalie peeked out from under the bed and slowly inched her way out. She stood and looked out in the hallway. "He's come by here twice every hour since the thing in the hallway. And―" Natale grabbed Mexi by the front of her dress "―he . . . won't . . . _stop_!"

"So, Natale," Barce poked his head around the corner of the door, "about the incident―"

Natalie screamed and slammed a textbook in his face, slamming and locking the door.

"I wonder if she knows I'm still out here." Melinda said.

"Who're you?" Jack said.

"I'm Ottawa!"

* * *

><p><em><span>Ella<span>_

"There. I think he's gone." Ella commented after opening the door and looking down the hall for her (sometimes) annoying Spanish cousin. Melinda glided in unnoticed.

"Oh, wait!" Rome blabbered, previous terror now gone, "I dropped my favorite Pasta Recipe Book on the floor when Barce took my hands! How am I supposed to eat lunch?"

"Simple." Ella said bored. "Forget the pasta and have some carne asada." At this she got a look of intense hunger.

"Yea." Melinda said, appearing beside them. "What time is dinner?"

"_NOOOO_!" Natale said panicking, "How am I supposed to survive without my favorite book? Ella come with me. I have to go and get it!"

"Fine." Ella conceded. It wasn't like she had anything else to do.

And with that, they went off down the halls together, heading back to where she and Barcelona had had their 'incident'. As she picked her book up off the floor, said capital rounded the corner.

"Oye, _princessa_!" Barcelona called.

Natale screamed and hid behind her friend. From that second onward, Ella had an overprotective glint in her eyes.

"BARCE!" she shouted first and then switched into Spanish overload. "_Estupido! Como puedo creer que estas siguiente ella! Dejala en paz! No lo hablas a ella, no toques a ella, no pienses en ella! puedes oirme_?" She stormed up to him and poked him fiercely in the chest. Barcelona now had a mildly scared face as he looked down upon his smaller cousin. "_Y se yo oigo de ella que tu estas molestando ella yo te voy a lastimar usted para que ya no vas a pueder caminar ni hablar!_"

And with that she balled up her fist and punched Barce in his perfect jaw, her stature limiting her to the areas she could punch. By then a large crowd had gathered because of Ella's loud shouting and were now chanting "Fight, fight!" softly as they watched this exchange. "_Y si te veo otra vez a lado de ella, yo voy a matar se. entendido_?" she said with a deadly tinge as she looked down on her stunned cousin, sitting on the floor. Any other cities and countries who could speak Spanish were now cheering Ella on as she said her speech.

But then Barcelona spoke as he looked at Rome: "Do not fear, querido, you will be mine eventually." And with that, Rome screamed and streaked down the hall back to the dorms at an incredible speed. You know, she _was_ Italian, and that's what Italians do best, right? Most people were very surprised at her behavior. Barcelona wasn't a very scary person, and he was quite handsome so they thought she was in a privileged position. Barcelona himself got up and walked quickly after her. The rest of the crowd either left or followed after Barce at that point-except for two people: Ivan and Ella.

"You have some great fighting skills." he commented with that sweet child-like smile. "What was that you were yelling at him?"

At this Ella's tan skin turned slightly pink. "Uh, I just told him to stay away from Natale." she stuttered.

"Very brave of you to protect your friends," he said with that smile. "It looks like that punch did some real damage."

"Well, I'm quite a bit stronger than I look." she said in an_ almost _ boasting tone.

"You know," Ivan started, "Barcelona is very unlikely to give up. You should take this, for extra insurance." he said, almost sounding a little bit unsure. He pulled out of his pocket a long lead pipe.

And even though Ella hadn't known him for so long, she knew from other people (namely America) that he took this pipe with him everywhere. Ella suddenly turned so red she had to hide her face, which was a rare occurrence: she hardly _ever_ blushed.

"Gr-gracias..." she stuttered some more, unable to even get her thoughts out in english.

Russia patted her on the head affectionately, almost sending the Mexican City to her knees, "Take good care of it, da?"

"Si." And with that, she turned around and walked very quickly down the hall back to her dorms where she would probably lie down and stare at the ceiling, wondering what just happened. And that's exactly what she did, holding Russia's pipe tightly to her chest. She fell asleep soon enough with a contented smile on her face.

* * *

><p><em><span>Melinda<span>_

There was a crowd at the Europe table when Ella, hugging Russia's pipe close and growling if anyone came too near, and Melinda finally came in.

"Hey, Nat!" Ella called.

Natale came skipping over. "Yeah?"

"What's going on?" Melinda asked quietly.

"Ve~ Paris is here!" the Italian said.

"Really?" Ella said looking worried.

"Mmmhmm."

"Oh, seriously?"

"Who's the victim this time?" Melinda asked softly as she took a sip of water.

Rome smiled. "Iggy!"

Melinda coughed and sprayed the water all over the guy who'd brought it to her. "Eyebrows?"

Rome's face fell.

"I'm sorry, Melinda." Ella said, putting a gentle hand on the Canadian's shoulder.

They all turned to look at the Frenchies. Paris looked just like her big brother Francis, only she had brunette hair, not blond. They were talking about something the school president would normally never allow, but was he really paying attention to anything the French girl said? If you could say that staring at Francis' incredibly attractive capital with dreamy eyes and unconsciously agreeing with everything she said was called "paying attention".

They were grading everything in the room, on a scale of English to French, English being the lowest, obviously. But did England care?

"This plate here," Paris said in her high, feminine voice, "would be English."

England didn't say a word. Apparently not!

"Oui, Paris, I don't think there is but one thing in this whole room that is French, vous ne croyez pas?"

"There is but one, mon frère." Paris stood, and so did England. "If you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I will only be a moment." She walked out of the room and England sank back into his seat.

Melinda was crest-fallen. "It's alright, Melinda." Ella comforted.

"Yeah, there are other guys you can like." Rome said.

"But, but," Melinda sobbed, "NONEOFTHEMHAVEEYEBROWSLIKEHIS!"

"I'm sorry, Melinda."

"Damn, now he really is gay." Rome said, almost forgetting that Melinda was there.

Paris was back. "THIS, MES AMIS, IS FRENCH BEAUTY!"

England gawped. He turned to France and bellowed, "You bloody _wanker_! Why the hell didn't you tell me your capital was a _GUY_!"

France just smiled and flipped his golden hair. "I thought it would be funny to surprise you all, non?"

England turned back to Paris and took one more good look at him before he almost died. Paris seemed to have moved closer to England while he was yelling; Iggy got a whole faceful of 'French beauty'. Paris was completely naked.

In the middle of the cafeteria.

With everyone around.

"Russia." England called quietly.

"Da?" the Asian nation asked.

"I'm gonna need the strongest vodka you've got." England managed to say before he fell to the ground, unconscious.

Within a few minutes, America and Canada had carried England to the nurse's office, with Melinda invisibly following them. The two men left after placing England on an empty bed, leaving the small girl to wait for him to come around. Luckily, it didn't take long before Eyebrow's eyes slowly started to open.

"Ugh," he moaned. "Was I drunk again?"

By the way he looked right through her, the capital could tell that he couldn't see her. Nervously, she clear her throat. "Um, Mr. England, president, sir?" she whispered.

The English man started to look around frantically. "Is my sight gone?" he asked himself in a panic. "I should be able to see the ghost in this room!"

Have you ever been in love? Yeah, most likely. But are you an invisible Canadian that is in love with a jerky man named Arthur Kirkland? No, but you could probably understand how hurt she feels right now. With no control, Melinda started to whimper, then tears came. Biting her lip, she stood abruptly and did the unthinkable. "You idiot!" she yelled, having just slapped Arthur hard across the face. Anyone there could have said that she was yelling at the same volume as Alfred ever could.

For a second, she was shocked at what she just did. Surely that was not the way to win the man's affections? But in the end, she felt as though he deserved it. Before he could say anything in his defense, Melinda stormed out, leaving England speechless.

"Miss O'Neil!" someone behind her yelled. Fearing it was a teacher, Melinda turned around slowly, just to see a tall man. He had short brown hair, a funny-looking curl, and stern looking glasses.

She sighed and gave a small bow. "Hello Mr. Austria."

"'Roderich Edelstein' will do fine, Ottawa." Austria was somewhat of a teacher at World Academy. Once a week he taught a music class, since all of the ancient empires were incapable of 'proper' music.

The capital shrugged. "Um, all right, Mr. Edelstein. Is there anything you wanted to tell me?"

"Yes. Was that you yelling back there?"

"...yes..."

"You're very loud. I need a loud girl."

Ottawa looked at him, confused. "Why would you nee-"

"See here, I run a drama department at this school, and I need to include someone from each country in a play," he stated, pacing around a bit. "My problem is that it's hard to find a loud Canadian. However, you've just proven that you can be loud."

"I don't see where you're going with this."

"Ottawa, would you be in this production?"

She looked at him. Ottawa, and all the other Canadians, hated to preform. It meant being seen, and being see was something that they usually failed at. "I'm sorry, but-"

"Arthur will be in it," Austria said almost absentmindedly. "And you do like him, right?"

She looked away, blushing. "How did you know?"

He smiled. "I used to be married to Hungary."

"Um alright, but why would the president be in the drama department?"

Austria sighed. "He cut the budget in half, so this is his way of making it up to me."

This time, Melinda sighed. "Look, I appreciate the offer, but I don't think I'll be able to be that loud again."

Roderich handed her the script nonetheless. "Auditions are in a week from today. I'll see you there." He was gone before she could object.

"Oh Justin," she said, looking at her beaver. "What should I do?"

"Who are you?"

"I'm Ottawa."

"Exactly."

Melinda looked down at her pet. Had he actually just given her a piece of advice? _I want people to know me,_ she decided. _I want Eyebrows to know of my existence! _She looked at the front page of the script again. _'The Sound of Music'_ was written in bold print on the front.

_Figures_, she thought sourly. _Of course he'll chose something that takes place in Austria._

Holding the script close to her chest, she ran down the hall and back to her dorm. The first people she should go to are the two of the loudest capitals ever: Ella and Natale.

"Ella," she whispered when she saw her friend. "Over the weekend, can you teach me to be loud?"

Ella, who was going over something in Spanish with Natale, looked at her. "Don't you know what tomorrow is?" she asked, slightly puzzled.

"Friday?"

She laughed. "Silly Melinda, it's the start of the school beach trip."

"Beach trip?"

This time, Rome laughed. "On the first weekend of school, all the students and teachers go to a private beach. We leave tomorrow morning and come back Sunday evening."

The Canadian smiled, forgetting her worries. Without another word, she started to pack her things. This was going to be fun.

* * *

><p><strong>BFTL: I kinda like the way Paris turned out. I'm glad I suggested that we make him a guy.<strong>

**SEK: Stop bragging. **

**MW: Comments/Reviews loved by all!**

**BFTL: BEACH TRIP!**

**SEK: Stay tuned guys!**


	4. The Perverts and the Beach

Chapter 4-The Perverts and the Beach

"LA PLAGE~!" France yelled, hoping off the bus and running up to the water. All of the students chatted excitedly as they walked onto the sand. The beach itself way only a few miles long, but there was grass area where their tents would be, leading into a forest that ended in a Japanese style hot spring.

Stepping out of the bus, Melinda eyed the water nervously. Her bathing suit was white with a red maple leaf on the side. She, amazingly, was wearing a bikini, though if it was to impress England, it didn't have much effect, since she held Jack up defensively whenever someone looked at her. "I've never been to the beach before," she whispered.

Ella, who wore a tankini in her nation's colors, laughed. "My friend, how could you not have been to the beach before?"

"In Canada, the waters are too cold to swim in," she replied.

Rome, wearing boy trunks and a swim shirt looked at her. "Where's that?"

"Mes chers~!" An all too familiar face sang from behind them. Hesitantly, they turned to see France running up to them, ready to give them a bear hug, in a _way_ too tight Speedo. Ottawa and Rome (having met their older brother's companion many times before) yelled and quickly ducked out of the way, leaving poor Ella to be the Frenchman's victim. Francis captured his victim with a sequel. "Aren't you little Mexico's younger sister?" he cooed, trying to get his hand over her breast.

"FRANCE!" A hand smacked the man hard behind the head. This hand belonged to no other than Germany. "Would you respect women for once?" He demanded, looking ready to kill him.

France released Ella and smiled at Germany. "Ludwig dear, if you're jealous all you had to do wa-" He collapsed to the ground. All eyes traveled to Ella, who looked very pissed as she held the pipe Russia had given her.

"I'll murder him," she growled. Melinda and Rome looked at each other and took a step back. They hadn't seen her like this since Rome decided to replace her Mexican chocolate with laxatives.

Feli came running up to the barely conscious Frenchman. "Waaa~! Big brother," he cried, kneeling down towards him. "Are you alright?"

Francis smiled. "Yes, now that your here. Why don't we go to a quiet place to get some sleep?"

The Italian seemed more than happy to oblige. "Vee~! A _siesta _would be great~!"

"YOU DAMN POTATO BASTARD!" Romano yelled, running up to Germany. "Why are you letting that French bastard flirt with Feliciano?"

Before Germany could answer, Spain came and placed an arm around the Italian's, "Now, now. Why don't we just leave him alone?"

"What? Are you fucking mad?"

"No. I just believe that you and I need to spend some quiet time together."

"No way in hell Tomato Bastard!"

"HEY!" All eyes traveled to the school president, standing tall and proud in his swim trunks. "Since we are at a public place, I will not tolerate any misbehavior! Anymore ruckus and I will have you all serve a week of detention! Are we clear?"

Everyone stared at England. It hadn't occurred to them that he was still going to be all stuck up with his rules like usual. A small voice could be heard. "I-I'm sorry," Melinda said, bowing her head.

For once, the Brit recognized her. "Just don't do it again Miss Ottawa." She nodded and the group slowly dispersed.

The girl placed her hands on her face, realizing that she was blushing. "He remembered my name!" she whispered.

Her companions sighed. She was going to be stuck like that all day if they didn't stop her. They each took a limb and carried her to the water. The water was a bone chilling cold. With no mercy, they dropped her in.

"EEEEEEEKKKKKKK!" Melinda squealed, running back to the shore. "I'm not going in there!" she cried.

"Aw come on!" Rome yelled. "You're from Canada, so you should be used to the cold!"

"I'm not going in!"

The girls sighed. "Suit yourself!" They called before swimming further into the water.

* * *

><p><em><span>The Hot Boys<span>_

Germany walked up to Russia; the Asian country was sitting on his towel, looking out at the ocean with his scarf folded beside him. "Russia?"

Russia looked up at him and smiled. "Hello Germany. Do you need something?"

"I just wanted to ask you a question." the blond nation said, sitting down on the sand. He wouldn't dare sit on the same towel with Russia, let alone be that close to him either. "That pipe that Ella hit France with. Wasn't it yours?"

Russia looked at Germany with a blank stare for a moment before looking away. Was that a sunburn or a blush on his cheeks? "Da."

"What is Ella doing with it?"

Russia took a while to respond, and when he did, he chose his words carefully, like there was something he didn't want to slip out: "Well, she was fighting."

"What does that have to do with the pipe?"

"I was watching her and after the fight, I complemented her on her fighting. She's very good, da?"

"So you gave her your pipe?"

"She needed it. I told her that it would help her to defend her friend against Barcelona." Russia pointed out to the ocean, where indeed Barce was trying to get close to Rome, with no avail: Ella was waving the pipe about furiously so the only thing Barce could concentrate on was not getting hit. If he got hit, he was going _down_.

Germany instead focused on Rome, who was watching her friend protect her with that Italian stare. No doubt she was "Ve~"ing as well. The capital was almost exactly like Feli: she was friendly, not very bright, and she could run like hell was after her. Germany even considered thinking that she might have been able to out run Feli, or maybe that was just because someone was actually stalking her and not just walking by.

Russia seemed to notice that his blond friend was staring at Rome, and not the actual fight, and smiled. "You like her, da?"

"What?" Germany blushed profusely and looked back to Russia.

"She's a cute capital, almost just like your Feli."

"Uh, he's not _mine_ . . ." Germany stuttered. He saw the smile on Russia's face as he watched the fight and shot back, "You like Ella, don't you?"

Russia didn't respond but rather looked at him with a surprised expression. How could Germany tell that he liked the Spanish-speaking capital?

Germany caught the words after it was too late, but unexpectedly, Russia didn't strike out at him. He just gave him a blank stare. And was he _stuttering_?

"You do?" Germany asked, surprised.

Russia hurriedly looked away and picked up his scarf. There was no way he was blushing. Absolutely, positively, no possible damn way. Germany wasn't all too surprised when Russia didn't respond to his question.

"What're you chaps talking about?"

England sat down next to Germany-no way he was sitting next to Russia-and looked at them. Germany blushed and stared back out at the ocean. "Oh, um. . ." the German stuttered.

England followed his gaze and smiled. "Rome is a bit too rowdy for my taste." he said absentmindedly. "And Ella just plain scares the crap out of me."

He gained harsh death glares from Germany and Russia. England had to get out of there before they strangled him. "Oh, look, there's . . ." England hurriedly searched the beach for someone he could accuse of doing something wrong, and he spotted Prussia with that girl-what was her name? Who cares, it was his way out! "It's Prussia! I can file him for sexual harassment! I'll talk to you later chaps!" And he ran off.

* * *

><p><em><span>Melinda<span>_

Melinda looked at her friends from the shore. They seemed to be having fun. "Justin, should I go out to them?" she asked

The beaver looked at her. "Who are you?"

"I'm Ottawa, your owner."

"Where's that?"

She sighed and placed the beaver on the ground. "Stay here," she ordered, before starting to wade her way to the other two capitals. It actually wasn't so bad in there. She quickly started to get use to the water as she discovered that it felt good to be hit by the waves. Melinda giggled and prepared herself for a big wave heading right towards her. It knocked her off her feet and dragged her under.

It took a few seconds for her to resurface. She gasped for air. She suddenly didn't like the water so much. "Excuse me, but is this thing yours?" Ottawa turned to see a vaguely familiar man with white hair holding a white bikini top...her bikini top.

Turning a deep shade of scarlet, Ottawa ducked herself deep into the water. "Yes," she finally managed to squeak. "How did you find it?"

The man handed it to her. "Saw it floating around and decided to give it to you, 'cause I'm awesome like that."

Ottawa quickly pulled the top back on, but cussed when she realized that it had a tie on back. "Here, let me help you with that." The albino quickly took the strings and started to tie them. "I'm the awesome Prussia by the way."

"Thank you Prussia," she said. "My name i-" She didn't get a chance to finish. Prussia, Gilbert as many of you may remember, had suddenly pulled her closed and had his hands over her chest. She started to scream, calling for help and telling him to let go.

"Why?" he asked simply. "If you don't want to be in my awesome debt, then I suggest you just sit still for a few minutes."

"PRUSSIA!" An all too familiar voice yelled. "What did I say about sexual harassment?"

Gilbert looked at England and just smirked. "What are you talking about? She was just letting me receive my thanks."

England looked at Ottawa. "Is that true Miss?" Melinda shook her head violently. She had lost all will to speak. England nodded, seemingly pleased. "Prussia, go to shore and report to Mr. Germania. Now."

The German scowled, but none the less, released the capital. England watched as he swam to shore and suddenly remembered the Canadian's name. "Now, Miss Ottawa. You should get back to your friends."Eyebrows asked finally.

Melinda just stared. England sighed as he asked, "Where are those capitals you are always hanging around with?" Melinda was too shock for words. All she could do was point a finger in their direction.

"Did he scare you?" he asked concerned. She nodded. He smiled and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Gilbert is someone most stay away from. He doesn't have a country of his own anymore, so he always hangs around France and Spain. Together, the three make a group of perverts. You need to stay away from them." She stared at him, plastered to the ground. "If you want, I'll go grab your older brother." he suggested.

Ottawa shook her head, but still she didn't move from her spot. England sighed and turned around, holding out his hands for her. "I'll carry you to your friends if you want," he said, defeated.

Melinda blushed. "OHNOYOUDON'THAVETODOTHAT! ICANSWIMJUSTFINE! SEEWATCHMESWIM!" she exploded before swimming as fast as she could to Ella and Natale. It wasn't until Melinda was safely clutching Ella's arm did she realized that she had missed out on a golden opportunity.

* * *

><p><em><span>Ella and Natale<span>_

After playing around in the ocean some more, the capitals headed back to shore, as it was almost time for the barbecue.

Natale, Melinda, and Ella were talking as they stepped out of the water, intending to go to their respective spot on the beach when someone came up from behind and threw Natale over his shoulder. At first she assumed it was Barce, but then she noticed he was taller and his companions were Prussia and France. "What now?" Spain asked.

"Spain, you have a girl with a lovely, almost French ass at your disposal and you're asking what to do with her?" France asked.

"Aw, HELL NO!" Ella shouted before hoisting her pipe over her shoulder. She hit Spain in the back till he dropped Natale, but still didn't relent on hitting him. Spain escaped eventually and went to shore, the girls slightly behind them.

"I certainly am jealous of the ocean," Prussia began in that annoying tone of his, loud enough for everyone to hear. "It would had been awesome to de-top those skinny capitals, even the tiny ass Canadian one~"

Russia, England and Germany were on the sand together, collectively packing their stuff up when they heard that comment. The three of them felt an anger they couldn't place; they couldn't even describe it, but they knew they had to get revenge.

Germany, usually not thinking his thoughts _all _the way through, lunged first, as the Bad Touch Trio was just a few feet from them. He wrapped his fingers around Spain's throat without thinking of what he was doing. The other two joined in, as Prussia and France started to attack Germany. Russia started to beat France around with his massive fists as England was having a hard time landing a good blow on the bigger boy Prussia.

By this time, the teachers had seen the crowd that had gathered around the brawling countries and declared an end to it. They grabbed the Bad Touch Trio, assuming they had started the fight, and dragged them away, leaving England, Russia, and Germany on the sand.


	5. The Barbeque

**Ch. 5 The barbecue**

* * *

><p>"Where's the fight," America yelled, pushing his way through the crowd that had gathered. "The hero will surely end it!" Someone tapped him on the shoulder and told him it was over. As if the intrusion from America woke everyone up, the crowd scattered, leaving behind the brawlers.<p>

"Guys?" three voices said, in perfect sync. Rome, Mexico City, and Ottawa being the ones that had commented, ran over to try and help the three injured guys.

Germany seemed to have received a mild concussion as he seemed unable to speak, and his eyes were unfocused. He mumbled incoherent sounds, most likely an attempt to speak. Russia was glaring at his hands angrily. They were hanging limp and it seemed as though he couldn't move them. Meanwhile, England, having not fought nearly as hard as the other two, escaped with only a few bruises.

"Are you alright?" Ottawa asked.

England gave a relaxed smile. "Fine. As an ex-pirate, this was nothing more than a harmless scrimmage," he said cheerfully. "I just hope I won't lose my position as president for this."

The capital touched the blond's left cheek. "You're bleeding," she noted. She suddenly bowed low. "I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed. "You got hurt because of me! I just should have not gone into the water in the first place and then Prussia wouldn't have-"

England laughed, but then scowled. "I didn't do this for you!" he snapped. "Spain used to be a pirate too and I had an old grudge with him and-"

He didn't get a chance to finish. He was much too surprised to. Ottawa's lips were on his uninjured right cheek in a soft kiss. Abruptly, Melinda stopped and automatically started to blush. "I'm sorry," she said nervously. "It's just that I wanted to thank you. If you were fighting something out with Spain, you would have punched him instead of Prussia. So thank you."

He stared at her, amazed. "ENGLAND~!" A dreaded voice yelled. Pushing Melinda aside, Seychelles gazed at her master. "Oh Iggy! Are you alright," she asked, acting as if the smaller capital wasn't even there. All Ottawa could do was stare back at her, shocked.

"I'm quite alright Seychelles," England stated.

She gently touched his cut, which made him grimace. "We should clean that before it gets infected," she said.

England nodded and willingly followed after her. "Yeah let's go to the clinic."

All Melinda could do was gaze helplessly, trying not to cry. She needed to become louder. Not for Austria, but for herself. _I also need to be more outgoing! _she thought. As much as she hated to admit it, she knew the exact person to go to. Before anyone could make a comment to her, she ran off to find Big Brother.

_Natale_

"GERMANY! Ve~" Rome rushed over, put one of his arms over her shoulders and stood him up with him leaning on her shoulder.

Ella also seemed to notice her crush had been hurt. She came to realize that his wrists were broken or something similar as he could not move his hands. She quickly took his huge scarf and made a makeshift sling.

"Ve~ let's get them to the tables..." Natale suggested as she dragged Germany over to where the barbecue was now taking place. Ella looked up at Russia and gestured to the tables. He nodded and followed her over to where her Italian friend was now sitting.

"Dude, this stuff looks amazing." the Italian commented as she looked down the table of exotic foods. Rome spotted a giant barrel of beer.

When she returned, Natale held in her arms one giant keg of beer. She placed it under Germany's nose and waited for a couple seconds. He woke with a start and threw his head down on the table: he was _not_ feeling well. "Ve~ Germany?"

That was _Rome_ talking to him. Germany shot up and blushed profusely. "Rome!" he shouted.

The Italian capital ignored his strawberry red face and put her hands on his shoulders. "Don't do that." she said, pushing him back down onto the bench. "You'll just make yourself feel worse."

There was no room to put in a complaint of any sort, and quite frankly, he didn't really _want_ to complain. Rome was clutching his arm and looking at him with her big amber eyes. Why did she have to be so damn cute?

"Uh...um-well, I-_sie sind einfach so nett es ist wirklich leid..._"

She cocked her head in puzzlement, then realized he was saying something in German; Rome smiled. "Do you need me to get you anything?" she asked, clutching his arm tighter and scooching closer so her thigh was pressed up against his.

He sputtered in German again. "Let's just get some food, ja?" he said once he managed to regain his bearings.

"Oh~, I hope they have pasta!" she said, all previous closeness forgotten as she ran off to gather some pasta. At this, Germany couldn't help but smile. Yup, this was defiantly Feli's little sister. Germany honestly had no idea where an attitude like Romano's came from, as Feli and Roma acted almost exactly the same. Never really thinking things all the way through, running away whenever unknown people got to close to her, her undeniable affinity for pasta... After thinking these and more thoughts about the capital who was sitting next to, he couldn't help it. His pale skin blushed easily._ Too easily_, Germany thought as he shied away from Rome.

"Ve~ Germany are you okay? You're all red!" she exclaimed. "Did you get a sunburn or something? You should take care of yourself Ludwig!" she said with a slight scold in her voice, not even noticing that she said his name.

Germany sure noticed. His face turned an unbelievable shade of red, and with no other resort, he lowered his head to the table, hiding his blush, and then groaned at how stupid he just was.

_Ella_

"Oye, Russia, are you okay?" Ella noticed when they sat down, as she already had a plate of Barbacoa in front of her, everyone else had food, but he had made no motion to get anything.

"I'm not so sure I can move my hands correctly." he explained as he lifted up his still useless hands.

"Let me see them..." Ella said softly as she took his large, pale, and rather cold hands in her own smaller ones.

Russia's eyes widened. _The little Hispanic girl was holding his hands_. He looked away quickly. He didn't want to start blushing again. He had a stronger resolve than the German, and he was going to prove it. But then as she took her fingers and rubbed his wrists a little bit, he couldn't help it. Ella's hands were small and tan and, most noticeably, warm. Everything about this girl seemed warm, even her skin. Russia smiled again: he loved warm things and places.

"I think they've been dislocated. Don't they hurt?" She looked up at him.

As her eyes locked with his, he had a sudden need to impress her. He said hurriedly, "Uh..., no, I'm Russian. Most things that hurt other people have a very small effect on me."

"Well, I don't think you'll be using them for a little while." Ella picked up some of her Barbacoa, dipped it in some brown sauce, put it on a tortilla, and added cheese. She rolled it up and held it for Russia.

"It's just lamb. Eat some." Ella explained as she held it close for Russia to try. He took a bite of it and the effect was instantaneous. There were so many flavors Russia had never tasted before, and the meat just seemed to melt. Ivan loved it. With Ella's help, he quickly ate the rest of it.

"That was marvelous." Russia gushed. He had never eaten anything quite like that before.

"DUDE! We should have an eating contest!" Rome exclaimed.

Mexico City's face had a devious grin. "You're on." They looked at the plates in front of them and gathered more food. Ella ended up with several steaks and beans and entire rack of barbacoa in front of her. Natale ended with several plates of pasta, pizzas and lasagna.

They glared at each other and then shouted in unison, "LET'S DO THIS!"

And boy did they go. They had a small crowd watching them as they stuffed down dish after dish and it was a wonder neither of them got fat. It was amazing; many countries watched in awe as they knew they would never be able to eat that much. But being both Italy and Mexico, they were very proud of their food, and they loved it too, so they were able to eat in vast quantities.

After a good amount of time rigorously eating, Natale looked at her plate with dulled eyes.

"I give up!" she proclaimed, raising her arms and smiling as she looked over at Ella who was steadily eating her meat like it was no one's business.

"_Me Gane_!" Ella shouted raising her fists in triumph. Rome leaned back and patted her stomach contently.

Russia and Germany looked on in surprise. Germany had underestimated Ella's ability to eat, he had expected Natale to win. He looked back at the Italian and sighed: Rome was just like Feli when she ate, too. Pasta sauce and little chunks of meatballs littered her face.

Germany sighed and picked up a handful of napkins, absentmindedly wiping her face off. It was all clean before he realized that everyone was looking at him with odd looks, even Rome was giving him her Italian stare of complete and utter confusion "Uh . . ." he swore in German and stood up, running around to the other side of the table. "Russia, didn't you want me to fix your wrists for you?"

It was said in more of a pleading tone than asked as an actual question. The big Asian nation had no chance to respond, as Germany grabbed his arm and ran off with the large country in tow. They stopped on the beach in a shaded area where Germany was sure no one would find them.

_The Boys_

"Verdammt!" Germany swore.

"What's wrong, Germany?" Russia asked.

"Why the hell did I do that?" Germany asked, more to himself than in response to Russia's question.

Russia looked a bit crestfallen. "At least she doesn't show you up all the time." he mumbled.

"Does Ella do that to you?" Germany ask, surprised, as he popped one of Russia's hands back into place.

Russia nodded a bit. "She's always impressing me and others, but what could I do to impress her?"

"Well," Germany thought while he popped the other hand into place, "Ella does seem to like other languages. Try teaching her some Russian."

"Da? You think that'll work?"

"You'll never know if you don't try."

The two countries walked back to the barbecue site, to find that both Ella and Natale had gotten on the same bench and were sleeping contently, leaning on each other's backs. Russia and Germany looked on at the two girls with smiles. They really were adorable; the Russian and the German caught each other with the smiles on their faces and stuttered, embarrassed.

"We should . . ." Russia gestured to the two girls.

"Yeah, yeah, um . . ." Germany rubbed the back of his neck and the two countries smiled once again looking at the capitals. They stepped forward and picked them up in their arms, Russia cradling Mexico City close to his chest and Germany holding Rome like she were a little baby. The countries walked back to the campsite with the capitals in their arms, seeing the large tents were already set up. There were many sort of sights, each with a large circle of tents around a huge bonfire.

"Okay everyone!" England called out over the ruckus. "Six to a tent! Find a group and claim a tent!" Russia and Germany looked at each other. Where would they sleep? The two countries shared a thought, _Would they share a tent?_ Identical blushes spread on their faces, before the girl's missing third capital of the trio called out to them. Ottawa hailed the boys over as she took in their situation. She took on a giddy tone of voice, and invited them inside. It was large and spacious.

"I saw their stuff outside and took them here, because I had no idea where they were, but I see you found them."

"Actually, we were with them the whole time." Germany explained.

"Why are they asleep?" the Canadian inquired.

"Well, they had an eating contest..." the two men shared a look of remembrance. "Germany fixed my wrists and by the time we came back, they had fallen asleep." Russia finished.

"Figures, I've noticed they do that after they eat, and by the sound of it, it sounded like one hell of a fight."

The boys laughed and recounted the girl's epic battle to eat the most food. Shortly after, they set them down near their stuff and left to retrieve their own belongings from the beach. Melinda gazed at the two boys as they walked away. _Natale and Ella are so lucky,_ she thought sadly.

Instead of eating dinner, she had hunted down America. He was the loudest (and boldest) person she knew, so surely he could help her. But apparently, the hero was off doing hero things, like escaping the chaperons to go to a dollar store. Who was going to help her now? That's when his face came into her mind.

As perverted as he was, Prussia was loud and bold. Perhaps he could help her. . .

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><p><strong>MW: OOOOOHH! Cliffhanger!<strong>

**BFTL: And yes, SEK and I DO have those eating contests in real life**

**SEK: *face-palm* Comment and review plz.**


	6. A Night of Awkward Occurrences

**MW: Because I am awesome, I decided to upload the next chapter for you all. That means, I get the author's note all to myself!**

**...**

**Darn, it's so lonely. Reviews make me happy, so review.**

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><p><strong><em><span>Ch. 6.: A Night of Awkward Occurrences<span>_**

"Guys, guys wake up..." Melinda said softly as she tried to awaken her friends.

"_Quello che è successo_?" Natale spewed upon regaining consciousness.

Ella, on the other hand, simply murmured "_S'toy dispierta._.." as they both rose and blinked a few times, unsure of how they arrived in their tent.

"You guys will never guess what just happened!" Melinda said excitedly. The two waited patiently as she explained how they arrived there and took great pleasure as her two friends blushed deeply at the thought of having been carried by the two men they had come to have crushes on. It didn't help when said countries walked into the tent.

"Let's go outside, da?" Russia started.

"Ja, they're roasting marshmallows and stuff that America brought; it's quite good." Germany said happily as he placed his stuff down.

"Uh, excuse me..." a shy voice began outside followed by a head poking in; it was none other than England. "Every other tent in this circle is full, besides France's tent and there's no way I'm camping with that bloody frog. Do you thi-" He cut himself off when he saw exactly who was in the tent.

Ella and Natale pounced. "Sure Iggy! You can hide from France here." Ella began as she pulled him inside with her formidable strength as Natale grabbed his stuff and threw it beside Melinda's.

_The Boys_

When they were settled, they went back outside. There was a large fire in the center of the circle of tents, but there were also small fire pits in front of each tent.

"Okay," Natale began. "You boys go find some extra wood somewhere and we're going to go beg some of those s'more things off America. Sound good?"

She was met with a chorus of "ok"s and they split up.

The three countries went off into the woods to begin gathering the twigs and such that they would need for their fire. Russia volunteered to carry it all; Germany and England didn't complain as they went hunting.

"So," England said, wanting to get a conversation going. "You two must really like those capitals if you're sharing a tent with them, eh?"

Germany and Russia froze, turning to look at each other. "Uh. . ."

"So did that thing on the beach mean anything or what?"

"Uh. . . what beach thing?" Germany asked and he picked up a log, throwing it to Russia who caught it with stiff arms.

"You know, earlier today when you were staring at them playing in the ocean."

"Uh, that was just a uh um . . ." Russia stuttered, "I was just explaining to Germany why Ella has my pipe-"

Germany shot him a look, and Russia realized that statement had just made England's point. This conversation was not going well, not at all.

"Why does she have you're pipe?" England asked. "I thought you'd never give that thing up." Now England was just flat out teasing them.

"Well, she's a good fighter-I'm not saying that I like the way she fights-but, you know, she's a very good friend and-I'm not saying that she's my friend, but she was just being loyal and protecting her Italian friend," he stuttered, making things all the worse for himself.

"What Russia MEANS to say is that he admired Ella's loyalty to protect her friend so he gave her the pipe to use to protect her friend from Barcelona."

"Ah-uh." England said, crossing his arms. "And what about you, Germany?"

"What?" Germany asked, flustered and embarrassed.

"Why were you wiping Rome's face at dinner?"

"Uh, well . . . Italy does that sort of thing so it was just a reflex . . . I guess . . ."

"Did you see the look on your face? You looked like you did that pretty voluntarily to me."

"Well," Russia intervened, "I think we have enough fire wood. Let's go back."

"Yea, they might wonder where we are." Germany concluded, happy for an excuse to not answer England. England himself smirked; it was a lot of fun to tease the other countries, and he knew he was going to have _loads_ of fun messing with them.

When the countries got back, the capitals had smuggled and begged enough s'mores from America to last them the whole trip. They began arranging things in small portions for everybody: hot chocolate, popcorn, s'mores and a boatload of sweets.

"Hey guys." they greeted warmly, as they got up to greet them.

"Whoa, Ivan, did you carry all of this?" Ella asked, eyes wide at the amount of wood he had in his huge arms.

"Da," he said with a smile, finally happy that he could impress her, and set the wood by the tent.

_Ella_

Everybody sat around the fire with their food as they ate and told stories, and other things people normally do around campfires. Russia instigated his plan to try and show Ella some Russian: he would point to things and say them in Russian, and she would reply in Spanish.

"пожар," he said, pointing to the fire.

"Fuego."

"шоколад."

"Chocolate"

"дерево."

"Madera."

Ella pointed to the sky. "Estrella del norte, north star"

Ivan too looked up to the sky, but could not find the star she had mentioned.

"Over there." she said scooting closer and pointing to the exact star.

"I see. I'm not sure of the word for it though." he said sadly.

She picked up a bit of his scarf. "Bufanda," she translated.

After doing so, a slight breeze rolled in and Ella shivered. Russia noticed and realized, coming from such a humid, hot country, Ella wasn't not used to the cold like he was. He unwrapped the scarf from his neck and placed it about her shoulders.

"шарф." he continued with a smile.

Mexico City blushed madly, and wound it about her neck. It smelled very nice, like the sweet scent of burning wood, but the cool freshness of snow at the same time. They were complete opposites, but together . . . it smelled very relaxing. And very possibly-something flowery? Was it sunflowers? She held the folds to her face to hide the redness. Ivan watched this with a smile; she looked so cute when the fire light turned her skin a bit pink like that.

_Natale_

Rome was roasting marshmallows, squishing them into s'mores, and eating them like it was no one's business. Germany was surprised she could eat anything else after that food war they'd had earlier. "Roma?" he asked just before he blushed. Only Italy and Romano called her by that nickname!

"Ve~ yes Germany?" she asked, not seeming to notice.

"I don't think you should be eating so much." he said.

Rome frowned. "And I don't think you should get sunburned so much! You're redder than you were earlier!" She chomped defiantly on another s'more and said, "I have some sunscreen if you'd like to borrow it tomorrow."

"Oh, um, no it's fine, Rome." Germany tried to say as she clung to his finely toned arm.

"You're using it," she said stubbornly. "You won't be very happy if you get sunburned anymore." Now she was acting a bit like Romano. She looked cute when she was acting headstrong. Maybe it was something to do with the Italian, because Spain was always telling Romano that he looked cutest when he was flaming mad.

Germany sighed, knowing how stubborn Italians could be, and looked into the fire as Rome blabbed on and on. He hardly noticed when Rome stopped talking and snuggled up close to him. The small breeze wafted the Italian's pasta-smelling scent towards Germany. There was no possible way that he couldn't like that smell.

He looked down, his mouth open to ask a question, but discovered that Rome was asleep. Looking up carefully at Ivan and Ella, he saw that Russia had wrapped his scarf around the smaller capital, who was using it to hide her face.

Germany gently tugged his arm out of Natale's hands and pulled her closer against his side; she unconsciously grabbed his jacket in her hands and snuggled into his chest. Germany couldn't help but to smile.

_Melinda_

Arthur stared at Ottawa, expecting her to say something. The girl had just kissed him earlier, yet she was just gazing into the fire, barely nibbling on her s'mores. "So, is there anything wrong?" England asked, trying his best to make small talk.

Melinda didn't even look at him. "No," she spat, loud and clear. She was trying her best to be heard, but at the moment, she was thinking over what happened earlier with Seychelles.

The country sighed when he saw that Russia and Germany had their arms around their girls. As sweet as it was, it just made the atmosphere a lot more awkward. "It's cold out," he noted.

"Yeah, and?"

He really was getting nowhere with her. "If you want, you can have my jacket."

"I don't need your jacket," Melinda snapped as she bounced to her feet. "I have one of my own. Now excuse me as I go get it." She turned and walked back to her tent, leaving England to wonder what the bloody hell just happened.

_There_, Ottawa thought triumphantly as she walked inside. _I didn't need Prussia to be loud. I can be loud all by myself. _She knelt to her bag and started shifting through her stuff. She could have sworn she brought her jacket with her.

"Looking for this?" someone behind her whispered.

She recognized that voice easily. "Prussia," she growled, trying to mimic Ella in a bad mood, "What are you doing in my tent?"

"Hiding from Hungry."

"With my jacket?"

"Found it while seeing whether or not you brought some awesome, sexy underwear."

Melinda slapped him hard across the face. "Perv," she half whispered. "Give me one good reason not to yell for help right now. I'm quite sure England wouldn't mind beating you up again."

Prussia smirked. "You actually expect the guy you were just a total jerk to come to your rescue?"

"I was not being a jerk! I was being loud!"

"In a jerky way."

Ottawa grimaced, just about ready to call for the blond, when an idea came to her. Perhaps she really did need his help after all. "Listen here Prussia. I want you to teach me how to be loud without being a jerk to everyone else."

The German huffed. "Like I would do that."

Melinda blinked, putting on an innocent face. "Okay, I'll just tell Hungry that you were in my tent, shifting through my stuff. I bet she'll also like to her about you groping me earlier, and-"

"I get the point," Prussia said. Under his breath, he muttered something about this not being very awesome. "Fine."

"Very good. I'll see you tomorrow, right?"

"Okay!" He tossed her the jacket. "I'm outta here." He lifted up what was supposed to be the wall of the tent. Amazingly, the 6 foot man was able to slip under it without knocking the whole thing down. Melinda smiled, feeling accomplished. She walked out of the tent, only to see England gone, and her two best friends caught up in their own little romances.

Melinda sighed and pulled her jacket on. "I'm going for a walk," she said, in her ever quiet voice. But it wouldn't stay that way for much longer.

She decided that the best place to walk was along the beach. There was no one there and the crashing waves made a melody to listen to. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't notice crashing into someone.

"Watch where you're going!" the stranger yelled.

Ottawa looked at her, shocked. "I-I'm so sorry," she stuttered.

"That's fine," the stranger, a girl, replied. Melinda looked at her, realizing that she was blond herself, wearing a long blue dress and...Was that a knife in her hand? "Are you friends with Mexico City?" she growled, suddenly looking dangerous.

The capital was scared out of her wits. "Yes."

"Tell her to stay away from big brother! He's mine and I'm going to marry him!"

The Canadian squealed and ran back to the camp. She was scarier than America.

_All_

When she came back, the capitals were standing outside of the tent.

"Glad you're back," Rome said, giving the smaller girl a hug. "The boys are in the tent, getting ready for bed."

"ELLA!" Melinda cried. "You're gonna die!"

The girl scowled and smacked her behind the head. "Don't say stuff like that!" Mexico City scolded. "Now calmly tell me what happened."

"There was this girl with a knife and she told me to tell you to stay away from her big brother and-"

"Da! Did she wear a blue dress?" Russia asked, stepping out of his tent, wearing brown slacks and no shirt. Melinda nodded. The Russian cussed. "I'm sorry; I'll deal with Belarus later."

"Isn't Belarus your sister?" Ella asked.

Ivan nodded. "Da, but don't worry, I'll protect you."

She really didn't understand why he'd have to protect her, but she didn't get the chance to ask, as Germany and England were finally coming out, wearing of course, their pajamas. Germany looked like a soldier, wearing a black wife beater and army pants. England, however, wore boxers with the English flag printed onto them. You could hear Melinda's jaw fall off.

"Is something the matter?" Germany asked.

"No," Russia answered hastily. "It's just the girl's turn to get changed now."

All the guys blushed, trying to picture what each girl would wear to bed. "Ve~! Let's go~!" Rome said, dragging her two friends into the tent. The girls quickly changed into their clothes, Mexico City wearing a red tank top and long, soft, black pants; Rome copied Feli's style, wearing gym shorts and a pink wife beater. Ottawa, however, wore a long, cream colored night gown. "I didn't expect to be sleeping with a bunch of guys," she wined when Natale and Ella started to laugh.

"Sorry, no hard feelings amigo," Ella said, opening the flap. "I didn't expect-"

"YOU GODDAMN FROG!"

The girls blinked and looked outside the tent. From what they could tell, England was on top of France, choking him, while Germany and Russia were flipping through the pictures on a digital camera. "I'm going to kill you!" the Englishman yelled.

"Now, now," his victim said in a soft voice. It was hard to speak when someone was choking you. "You don't have to be so modest Iggy."

"Don't call me that!"

"Vee~! What happened?" Rome asked.

Germany sighed and handed the camera to Russia. "Francis was taking pictures of England, and as you can see, he's not very happy about that."

"Da! Here they are!" Russia exclaimed, holding up the camera. "And they're at really suggestive angles too."

This only seemed to make England angrier. He raised his fist, ready to punch him. "YOU SON OF A-" He didn't get a chance to finish: Prussia came by and knocked the him off his friend.

"Quick Francis," Prussia yelled, keeping England pinned to the ground. "Be awesome and run away while you can!"

The Frenchie didn't need to be told twice. Like a rabbit, he was gone in a second. The albino sighed and released his captive. He reached into his pocket and took out a 20 dollar bill. "Twenty awesome dollars for the camera?" Gilbert offered.

Before England could object, Russia tossed him the camera and took the money.

"Why did you do that?" England yelled.

"I need to save up for a new scarf," Russia stated simply. "Now come on, let's go to bed already."

They all climbed into the tent and found their spots. Germany's sleeping bag was next to Rome's, Russia's to Ella's and England's to Ottawa's.

"Aren't you going to sleep?" Melinda asked, seeing the president pull out a book and flash light.

"Nah, I need to finish this," England stated.

"Oh, well good night Arthur."

England nodded, noting the usage of his first name. "Good night..." He paused, realizing something. "Ottawa, what's your human name?"

"Melinda O'Neil." she mumbled, already starting to fall asleep.

England laughed, a bit embarrassed. "Yeah well, good night Melinda."

Everyone else said their good nights as well, each making sure that they kept a respectful distance from each other.

England yawned. It had been about 3 chapters and he was already tired. _I can finish one more_, he told himself. He placed his book down and rubbed his now hurting eyes. He looked at the other occupants of the tent. It was a cold night and all of them were deep asleep, except for Ottawa. She was barely sleeping, shivering every now and then under her blankets. _For a Canadian, she sure can't withstand the cold very well,_ he thought. He sighed and moved some of his blankets onto her. She stopped shivering immediately. He smiled and put his things away.

Ready to fall asleep himself, he placed an arm around the capital. _In case she's still cold,_ he told himself; but even so, he couldn't help but to blush ever so slightly.

Russia slowly opened his eyes. He could feel the warmth of something near him, something that felt good. He smiled and pulled it closer to him. It squirmed, but then snuggled into him. _This is nice_, he thought to himself. His chest slowly came into rhythm with the warm object, falling into sync as it rose up and down.

Then Ella woke up. Unlike Russia, she quickly shot her eyes open and in an instant realized that she was snuggling close to him. She blushed a little, before closing her eyes again; she was going to enjoy this for a few more minutes.

Rome woke with a yawn. She found herself clinging to Germany with his arms around her, holding her close to him. She made an "Eepp!" before trying to get out from his grip. Any attempt failed. Every time she came close, Germany would just pull her closer to him. As her face got buried into his chest, she took in his sweet scent. _He smells like beer,_ she noted. But she knew that he was also going to be furious when he woke up.

Cautiously, she started to poke his face. "Germany?" she whispered.

He groaned, but all the same, opened his eyes. "Natale?" he whispered in reply. Suddenly realizing what he was doing, he released the capital. "Sorry," he muttered. He shifted in the bag, causing him to realize something else.

He threw off his blankets to see Italy curled up in a ball at his feet. "ITALY!" he yelled, picking the Italian up. It was impossible to sleep in that noise. Russia and Ella sat up, the country's arm still around the capital's waist.

"What is it Ludwig?" he asked with a yawn.

Germany didn't reply. Instead, he carried the still sleeping man out, muttering something about killing him while Rome followed close behind, begging him not to kill her _grande fratello_. The couple stared for a second longer. The gray haired man looked at the Hispanic before shooting his hand back to his side.

"We should stop him, da?" Russia suggested, doing his best at not blushing.

Ella, however, was a deep shade of crimson. "Y-yeah," she stuttered, quickly getting to her feet. The two started to walk out, but not before noticing England and Ottawa.

Not only did the blond have his arm around her, but the Canadian had a smile on her face as she snuggled closer to him.

"Guys?" Ella asked, surprised that they were still asleep. England opened one of his eyes and winked, motioning her to be quiet. Ella covered up a smile before dragging Ivan outside with her. It was cute, though Ivan was never going to let Arthur forget it.

England lay there for a few moments, enjoying every second of it. He was just starting to realize all the small things about her, like how different she looked from Canada. In truth, she looked like a female version of America's twin, but there were those subtle differences that made her cuter. _Well of course I think she's cuter than Mathew,_ England thought reasonably. _Mathew's a GUY._

His thoughts, and eyes, then drifted to her lips. She had kissed him yesterday, right? As a gentleman, shouldn't he return the favor?

From outside, Italy made a "WAA~!" sound, probably from being punched by Germany. That sound, however, is what woke Melinda up. She slowly opened her eyes, not understanding what was going on. "What-?" she started to say, before seeing that she was face to face with England. The two stared at each other for a second, her in shock, and him with a smirk.

Suddenly, he cupped her face in his hands. He smiled and leaned into her, surely it was the gentlemanly thing to do? He could feel her breath quicken as their lips were just about to touch...

But what was he doing? He squealed and was suddenly on his feet. Before Melinda could say anything, he was out of the tent. Melinda laid there for a few seconds, trying to figure out what just happened. _Did he nearly kiss me?_ She wondered.

A hand grabbed her butt. "That wasn't very awesome of him," Prussia said, lying down right next to her. "Getting your hopes up like that."

Ottawa smacked his hand away. "What are you doing here?" she hissed.

He continued as if she hadn't spoken at all. "At the rate he's going at, you'll probably be in bed with him in less than a week."

"What are you talking about?" she replied. "He'll probably be back to flirting with Seychelles soon."

"See, unawesome people ruin your self esteem."

Melinda bit her lip, obviously pissed at him. She rolled so that her back was to his face. "What do you want?" she growled.

At that, Prussia pulled her close to his chest. His lips were suddenly close to her ear, so close that she could feel his breath. "Just came to say that if you want your awesome lessons, then meet me at the cliff at sunset."

Melinda knew where that was. It hung over the ocean, but the only way to get to it was by going off the path in the nearby woods.

"Before you ask, that's the only place awesome enough to do it," The German said quickly, before slipping out under the same wall of the tent as yesterday. Melinda laid there for a little while longer. _What just happened? _she wondered for the second time that morning as she left to join her friends outside.

Prussia

Prussia sighed and walked away from the tent. _It really is a shame,_ he thought as he walked back to his own tent._ It almost seems too unfair, but when has that ever stopped me?_

His plan really was simple. Once he had Melinda alone on that cliff, he could easily over power such a weak little girl. The hard part would be to keep Ella and England away. But he already had that covered. Why else would someone as awesome him keep Spain and France around?

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><p><strong>MW: The fluff of this chapter was written by me, so if it kinda sucks, you know why. Anyways, evil Prussia is awesome, non? And tres sexy :)<strong>

**Sek: Midna, no using the AN as a fangirl area**

**BFTL: Because of that, you loose all previlages to make one of these without us in it.**

**MW: Awwwwwww...**

**SEK: Like always, review~!**


	7. Hot Water Naturally Attracts More Pervs

**BFTL: Well, now I'm lonely. Srry for the late update guys. We've already written up to chapter 13, but we're all really lAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAzy. So you get 2 chapters at once! Enjoy.**

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><p><em><span>Chapter 7: Hot Water Naturally Attracts More Perverts<span>_

When Melinda walked outside, the first thing she noticed was that Italy was crouched in a ball, crying, as Germany stood above him, giving him the scolding of a life time. "You can't just crawl into other people's sleeping bags!" he was yelling, smacking the Italian on the back of the head. "Especially if it's a girl's! I don't care if she IS your sister!"

Feli looked up, crying still. "B-but Germany," he sobbed. "You were in Roma's sleeping bag!"

The man looked away, starting to gain a red complexion. "T-that's different!" he stuttered, as England stiffed a laugh from the side.

"YOU POTATO BASTARD!" Romano yelled, storming up the blond. He obviously wasn't in a good mood, having just spent the night with Spain. "What do you mean by that?"

"I didn't mean anything!" Germany yelled, trying to find a way out of this.

Italy, however, was only making the situation worst. "I went to Germany's tent to sleep with him last night and I saw him sleeping with Roma in his arms!"

Romano gained a deadly look in his eyes. If Spain hadn't restrained the flailing Italian, he probably already would have had his hands around the German's neck. "YOU BASTARD!" Loviono screamed, preceding to wake the whole camp up. "HOW DARE YOU HAVE SEX WITH MY CAPITAL!"

"What?" Natale yelled as Germany began to shout his innocence. "I never did that!"

"AND YOU THREATEN HER SO THAT SHE WOULDN'T SAY ANYTHING?"

"I didn't have sex with him!" Natale yelled as she smacked her older brother behind the head.

He stared at her for a second in disbelief. "I want him the hell out of your tent tonight," he ordered, starting to calm down a bit. "You understand Natale?"

"B-but-"

"Got it?"

The capital sighed and looked down at her toes. "Yes sir."

Romano stormed away with Spain close on his tail, saying something about how cute he looked. The other nations were starting to come outside as well, wondering what in the world just happened. Rome sighed, glad that the misunderstanding was sorted out . . . kind of.

"YOU HAD SEX WITH MY PRINCESSA?" Barce yelled, tackling Germany to the ground.

Russia looked at Arthur, who was now cracking up laughing. "As president, shouldn't you stop this?" Russia asked.

"W-why?" he stammered between laughs. "This is so damn funny!"

Ella, who was trying her best to hit Barce without inflicting damage to Germany, glared at him. "Do you want us going over the events of this morning to _Alfred_?" She demanded as she accidentally smacked Germany in the back with the pipe. "I'm quite sure he'll be more than happy to make sure you never forget what you did to his brother's capital."

His face fell. "Point taken." Clearing his throat, he entered president mode. "Alright chaps!" he yelled. "Get off the two-timing German!" The fight continued. "NOW!" Barcelona grumbled, but then released Germany from his head lock. "You're Barcelona, right?" Arthur asked.

The city nodded. "Yes! And Natale is my wife!"

Arthur sighed. He sounded so much like Sweden. "Well for aggravated assault, you're going to do a week of detention when we get back to school, understand?"

Barce nodded again, defeated. "You will me mine Rome!" he yelled before dashing off.

Germany returned to his feet, dusting off his legs. "I should move my stuff now," he said sadly.

"Ah Germany-san?" a small voice said.

They turned to look at a small Asian boy with black hair and expressionless brown eyes. "What is it, Kiku?" Germany asked.

"Well, there are some Japanese hot springs if we go up the path in the forest a little bit, and I was wondering if you all would like to use them?" Kiku asked.

Germany turned to the rest of their party. "What do you guys wanna do?"

"I'd like to go." Ella said.

Natale said timidly, "It sounds _relaxing_, after the peaceful morning we've just had."

"Sure." Melinda said.

The guys nodded and let the girls into the tent to change into their bathing suits. They ended up coming out in a couple of minutes carrying their flag-towels. After the guys changed, Kiku nodded and said, "Follow me."

The group of six followed the Japanese man down the small forest path. They walked for a bit before they reached two different springs, separated by a row of trees. "This one is for the girls." Kiku said, motioning to the one on the left.

Natale handed something to Germany before following her friends to their pool. When Germany looked at it, he sighed. "Sunscreen."

_The Boys_

The boys stepped toward their spring and found a place to rest their towels and such. The three of them removed their shirts. Each of the boys looked very different, as the four possessed different body structures. Russia was extremely tall and outstandingly muscular, almost giving him a look of bulkiness. Germany was shorter than Russia (along with everyone else) and was also very muscly in his own right, being a bit leaner. England was substantially shorter than the other two blonds, and couldn't compare muscle wise really. Japan was just a few inches shorter than England with a very thin structure, strong but thin.

Once they were settled in the spring, Russia gave Germany a smirking glance and said, "So England, what were you doing with Melinda this morning?"

England turned red as a beat and snapped, "It's none of your business! She was just cold last night, that's all!"

Russia snickered and said, "Alright then."

England retorted, "What were you and _ELLA_ doing last night?"

Germany and Japan let out a competitive, "_Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo_h!"

Russia lost the smile. "What?" he stuttered.

"Yeah, I saw you two last night!" England continued. "Snuggling like a couple of Norwegians. You can't tell me _she_ was cold."

Germany looked at him. "Norwegians?"

Russia gave England a wide-eyed look of complete and total shock and said, "How would you know about that, da?"

England just sat there in the pool, looking absolutely speechless and shocked for words. he opened and closed his mouth like a gasping fish several times, but no sounds whatsoever came out to defend himself.

Russia, tired of the tense silence, just scoffed and said, "Da, I'm more of a man than you are anyway."

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?"

"At least I've _got_ a girl to snuggle with. The farthest you got was failing to kiss the quietest girl in the whole school." Russia hardly believed his own words, but the others seemed to be buying his fake confidence.

"S-s-so?"

Noting Russia's smirk and England's speechlessness, Germany gave Japan a look from across the pool. Japan nodded and Germany said, "I declare Russia the winner of this smack-down."

"What the bloody hell?" England pounced on Germany, trying to punch the bigger nation. Germany held him back easily with a large hand.

England started swearing his head off, and Japan snapped, "Arthur-san! Watch you're language: the girls are not ten feet from you!" England ignored him and kept lashing out at the German.

England stopped when a familiar voice shouted, "HEY! _HASSELHOFF_!"

They all look up at the entrance. There stood none other than Germany's favorite Italian-with the entire Italian Mafia behind him. "That's the Potato Bastard." Romano said to his giant posse, pointing to Germany.

The Girls

The girls stepped into the hot spring on their side.

"This feels amazing~" Natale sang as she slid into the shallow pool.

"Real nice . . ." Ella agreed as she slid in. "Ay, Melinda~ _no vas a creer me._" she began, suddenly excited.

"Calm down Ella. English please." Rome corrected.

"Oh, right." she said in remembrance. "You'll never believe what happened: when we all woke up this morning, Eyebrows had his arm around you."

"Oh YEA!" Rome yelled. "After Germany took _fratello_ out of the tent, we saw him and tried to wake him up when he just winked at us! He was snuggling with you! And he _KNEW_ it!"

Melinda had a look of understanding cross her face. "That explains a lot," she whispered so the others couldn't hear. All the less, it made her glow a bit inside to think of.

"And you Ella!" Rome continued on, "Russia was like completely hugging you in your sleep. You two looked so cute, you were even smiling. Ve~"

Ella widened her eyes as she took that in. She suddenly blushed a little. Damn, she never used to blush before she came to this school. Now it happened all the time! She had to get better control of herself; she remembered going to sleep, making sure to keep a respectable distance from everybody, especially Ivan. How had that happened?

Then she remembered something faintly: being woken up by a pair of arms pulling her close to what she realized must have been Russia's bare chest, then simply snuggling into a more comfortable position and very contently falling asleep in the embrace, not questioning the warmth on her side. She restrained the feelings that flooded through her.

"Yea, you guys were really cute." Ella said awkwardly to Melinda, referring to England.

"_Te encuentro, bonita_!" a loud voice cooed behind them. Looking up in fear as the three girls recognized the voice, two bodies jumped into the pool. It was Barcelona and France.

They quickly grabbed their respective targets and gave Melinda a significant look. She remembered,_ I have to go meet Prussia . . ._ She jumped out of the pool, grabbed her towel and ran out of the hot springs towards the cliff.

Eventually, Ella managed to wrestle her way out of France's grasp. I mean, wrestling with your other Spanish cousins has to pay off someday, right? She landed a heavy punch right in France's forehead; his head snapped back, hit the stone lining of the pool, and BAM: he was unconscious. She soon freed Natale using various death threats toward her her cousin.

Then Barce started chasing them. They all ran a little bit before Ella turned around and started chasing _him_ down. He ran into the guys' hot spring, thinking that the girls wouldn't follow. He was wrong. Ella came in, cornered him, and took him down. She always got stronger when she was furious. She proceeded to knock him out by means of cutting off the nerves in his neck. She would feel bad if she had to knock her _cousin's_ head into the stone floor. After that, they just left his body there and went to the entrance to the springs.

"Damn, that was tiring." Ella said, cracking her knuckles.

"Ve~" Natale was even more tired than usual, even though she hadn't done anything. "Lets go to the sauna okay? I need to sit down..."

"That's fine I suppose. No one else is here." Ella agreed.

They traveled to the bathrooms where they removed their swimsuits, wrapped themselves in towels and headed to what they had _presumed _was an empty sauna.

On the way there they encountered Romano, who for a moment seemed flustered at the sight of the two towel-bound girls. He got over it though as he asked where Germany was, insisting he was going to kill him. As Rome told their tale about being attacked by Barcelona and France, Romano quickly changed targets and stormed off, his mafia trailing behind him.

Unfortunately, they were wrong about being alone in the sauna. They were surprised to find, just to their luck, Germany, Russia and England were there too. Both girls blushed upon realizing that the boys were wearing nothing but towels around their waists.

All

Germany, Russia, and England were all sitting in the sauna relaxing in the hot steam. They decided to come as they had deemed there was no one else at the pools. But then a sound of talking could be heard from outside the door; it swung open revealing the shapely silhouettes of two people entering the sauna. The outside light had temporarily blinded them for a moment, so they couldn't exactly tell who had come in until they were sitting close. The countries blushed ten shades of red when they realized that two thirds of the capital trio were here in the sauna with them-who also happened to be bound only in towels.

The two girls sat next to each other, with a guy on either side.

"Ve~ _Germany_!" Rome scolded harshly. "You spent to much time in the sun without sunscreen again, _didn't you_! This has got to be the reddest I have ever seen you!" she said while poking his flaming cheeks. "You look like one of Spain's tomatoes!"

"And you too Russia? You have very pale skin, you should take better care of yourself: you look like a chili." she said, softer though than her overly rambunctious friend.

On Germany's other side, England couldn't help it: he started snickering very loudly. _That's not very nice. . ._ the girls thought. They glanced at each other, forming a plan in their heads.

They got up and placed themselves on either side of Britain, staring at him intensely. They each proceeded to slowly slide an arm around his bare waist.

"You know England~" Rome began.

"Its not very nice to make fun of other people's sunburns." Ella continued.

Rome ran a finger down his cheek. "Are you sure you don't have one?"

At this England shuddered.

Mexico City placed her head on his shoulder. "Now, we can't let poor _Arturo _get sunburned and ruin his pretty pale skin, can we?"

England couldn't take it anymore; as Rome ran her fingers through his hair, tugging gently, he blushed harder than the other two guys combined. At this, the two girls laughed and went back to their original seats. Seeing England in such a state and knowing the girls had planned that, Germany and Russia broke out into deep booming laughs.

Hearing the guys laugh only made the girls laugh harder. Soon the four were in hysterics. The door opened again in a bang, causing the girls to jump onto the guys laps, clinging fearfully to them as Barcelona and France jumped into the sauna.

"_Mi amor! Yo sé que te encontraría aquí!_" Barcelona said, opening his arms with a wide Spanish smile on his face.

"Mon ami," France said, looking over his shoulder nervously, "I think that now is not the right time for _l'amour_."

Barce wasn't listening to the French man: as soon as he opened his eyes and caught sight of Rome in Germany's lap, both of them wearing nothing but towels, he started fuming, hot steam flaring from his ears. "ROME!" he screamed.

"What?" she screamed back, throwing her arms around Germany's neck.

"What the hell are you doing with this guy when you should be with _ME_?"

"Because I willingly entered his company, Barce." Rome snapped.

Both Germany and Russia looked at each other, nodded, and gave Ella and Natale a reassuring squeeze to the shoulder. The girls got off Germany's and Russia's laps and looked at each other with quizzical faces as the guys stepped in front of them, forming a protective barrier.

"I really don't understand why you insist on bothering her, Barce. Isn't it obvious she doesn't to be with you? Why don't you just give up?" Germany said.

"Because she and I are meant to be! You shouldn't stand my way if you know what's good for you." Barce shot back.

"You obviously don't know whats good for you because every time you get close to her, Ella just takes you down. Why haven't you learned by now, da?" Russia added thoughtfully.

"_Es cierto pendejo . . ._" Ella mumbled, causing Barce to glare at her.

"So why don't you just turn around and leave before we make you?" Germany finished menacingly.

Before Barce could get another word out, a loud shout was heard: "THERE! GET 'EM!"

It was Romano. The Mafia came in the sauna and hauled the protesting Frenchman outside; Romano grabbed the furious Spaniard by the shoulders and threw him out, yelling, "I'll come back for you later, Potato Bastard!" The Italian slammed the door, leaving the three nations and two capitals inside the sauna.

Germany and Russia turned to the girls. "Well," Germany said, "at least he didn't see-"

The door was torn off it's hinges from the outside. "_NATAAAAAAAALE WHAT THE FUCKING HELL_!" Romano screamed, throwing the door away.

"Oh, great." Rome said, face-palming.

Melinda

Melinda had quickly dried off, wearing wet clothes while she was running through the woods trying to find the cliff. _'Why did he have to choose such a remote location?'_ she thought frustrated. When she did come to the cliff though, she was amazed at the view. Sunset really was starting, creating an orange hue to the world as it glimmered off the water. Ottawa couldn't help but to just stare at it for a few minutes. She didn't even realize that her teacher wasn't even there.

"Bonjour," a silky voice cooed from behind. Melinda froze, recognizing the voice.

Hesitantly, she turned around. As she expected, it was Paris, standing tall and proud with a disgusting smirk on his face. "What are you doing here?" she asked in her ever soft voice.

Paris walked up to her. He grasped a lock of her hair a smelled it. "You know," he whispered, his lips reaching up to her ears. "I can see why Prussia choose you."

"E-Excuse me?"

He continued on as if she never said anything. "Your small, quiet, weak. Your brother is weak-"

"Don't say that about Mattie," she hissed.

"And you have a pretty face."

Melinda's eyes grew wide, suddenly realizing what was going to happen. She turned around, ready to run, when Paris harshly grabbed her arm and pulled her back. He grinned and knocked her to the ground, pinning her arms down as well. She struggled under his weight. Why couldn't she be stronger?

He was easily able to hold both of her hands above her head. Using his free hand, Paris unbuttoned her shirt, saying, "It wouldn't be very fair if Prussia kept you all to himself."

The capital grinned as Melinda tried to hopelessly struggle out of his grip. _So Prussia is part of all this,_ she thought. But even in the mist of this all, she couldn't help but to wonder, _Where is the German?_

Paris grinned and unbuttoned her pants. At moments like this, Ottawa was grateful for her bathing suit, acting in good place of her underwear. The Frenchman pulled it down to her knees. She needed to get out of this! She needed to scream, but at that moment, all Melinda could manage was a whimper. She was so scared.

The little noise only seemed to bring the Frenchman pleasure. "No worry," he hushed, running a cold finger down the skin of her revealed body. "You'll be enjoying yourself soon enough."

That one word, that one touch, was too much. Letting out a few tears, Melinda cried at the top of her lungs, "GET OFF ME!" Even Alfred would've been proud at her volume.

Paris slapped her across the face. "Do you want me to gag you?" he hissed, trying to regain his control over her.

"I truthfully like it when they scream," a man said, looming over the attacker. The brunette's eyes grew big as he recognized the voice.

Prussia grabbed him by the back of his shirt and threw him to the side. Cracking his knuckles, he walked over to Frenchman. "It isn't very awesome to steal another man's prey." he said, giving Paris a round house punch to the face. "Especially if you're just a puny capital."

"Looks who's talking," Paris spat in return. "You aren't even a country anymore."

This only made Prussia angrier. He proceeded to beat the man harder, a beating, he hoped, the Frenchman would never forget. This whole time, Melinda was scare to death. She had sat up and put her clothes back on hastily, skipping over some of the buttons on her shirt. But she was too scared to move. _If he was really after me, it wouldn't matter if I ran away, _Ottawa thought. _He'll get me one way or another. _

The albino finished, leaving Paris in a state only comparable to a pile of shit. He looked at the trembling girl, and sighed. "By now, it wouldn't be very awesome of me to attack you, so don't worry."

This barely made the capital feel better. "So you were going to rape me."

Prussia paused. He needed a better way out of this. "No I was only going to pretend to," he said through his teeth. "Just to prove to you that you could be loud when you wanted to."

Melinda nodded, swallowing the lie as a whole. "Alright then, but why were you late?"

The man nearly groaned. He was not about to tell her that he lost track of time when playing with Gilbird. "I awesomely got lost." He walked up to the girl and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Why don't we go back now?" he suggested.

The capital nodded and tried to follow the man back to the road, just to trip over the first tree root. "You tired?" Prussia asked, not even turning around to face her.

"Y-yeah," she replied.

Without a second thought, he picked her up bridal style, and cradled her close to his chest. "Sleep," he said. "I'll carry you." Melinda couldn't help herself, but to blush. She didn't really trust the man, it would've been her preference to stay away from him, but her heavy eye lids said other wise. Within a few minutes, she was sound asleep. Prussia looked down at the girl. He no longer hand any attention of hurting her today, but he just couldn't leave the situation the way it was.

_She's afraid of me now, _he thought sourly. There will be no way he could ever get close enough to her again, not without trust. But trust was such a French thing, he saw Francis do it all the time. He makes his victim trust them, promises them the world, before going forth and taking advantage of them. All in all, a big game of manipulation. Prussia didn't have the talent to make a girl trust him in only a few minutes.

But maybe if he had a few weeks. He smiled, seeing an awesome plan form in his mind. He'll get Melinda to trust him, no, LOVE him, and then he could get all the sex he wanted from her. It'll take awhile, but he had all school year to do so. He wouldn't get in trouble since she would want it from him. Plus that capital was so silly, so stupid, that it would be so very easy to do.

The country was so wrapped up in his thoughts, that he didn't notice England shouting his name and running at full speed to him. The Brit had realized that Ottawa wasn't with Ella and Natale. No one knew where she had gone, so as the school president, it was his responsibility to go back to camp and look for her. At least, that's what he told himself. He didn't want to admit that his heart had stopped when no one could find the cute girl.

"Prussia," he started to say. "Have you seen..." He trailed off as he saw his crush sleeping in the other man's arms. He glared at him, deeply hurt. "What did you do to her?" he growled.

Prussia glared back at him. This brat was going to ruin his plans. What the German needed was to get him out of the picture. He made a smirk. And he knew exactly how. "Nothing she didn't want." he said, handing the still sleeping girl to England.

"What is that suppose to mean?"

Prussia pretended to be surprised. "You mean that you didn't know?"

The Brit was starting to lose his patience. "Know _what_, Prussia?"

"Melinda and I, we're dating."

"Like I'll believe that!"

"Yeah your right, we mostly just sex buddies."

"Sex buddies?" England repeated. He didn't believe it. "Why should I believe that someone like Melinda would be such a slut."

"Then you really don't know her very well. Tell me, how long have you personally known her?"

England was about to reply, but then paused. He really hadn't talked to her until yesterday.

"And have you noticed her doing anything a bit sexually outgoing during that short amount of time?"

England couldn't help but to recall her kissing him, and then snuggling with him that morning. But she was asleep, she couldn't help it, he told himself. Or, was she really asleep?

Prussia smiled, this was too easy. "She just came here today for some nice, long, awesome sex. She was in such a hurry to get ready afterwards, that she didn't button her shirt properly. And poor her, she was so tired, that she just had to fall asleep. Which brings us to now."

England was speechless. When he looked at her shirt, he did see that it wasn't buttoned properly. He didn't want to believe it: only idiots believed other idiots. Prussia shrugged and walked away, saying, "Look if I hadn't gained something awesome from this, I'll say that she's nothing more than a slut."

The blond watched as the man walked away, not sure what to say. Could Melinda just had been trying to take advantage of him this whole time? Unsure, he carried her back to the camp. Walking in silence, he saw Seychelles in the distance. Perhaps she could help him. She's been his colony for a year now, and not once had she lied to him.

Seychelles, seeing him, came running up to him, asking him where he had been. The girl had actually been caught in her own plans. She didn't want to be England's colony and she sure didn't want to spend the rest of her life with a dog collar around her neck. Thus, the girl had her own plans: trick the country into liking her so that she could convince him to take the thing off. Then she'll be free go after her real love: France.

However, she was desperately afraid that Ottawa would ruin everything for her, and surely seeing the man carrying the sleeping capital was not good thing. "What happened?" she asked, putting on a tone of concern.

England, shrugged. "I'm not quiet sure myself, but can I ask you something?" he said, knowing that Seychelles was the person he could trust the most. "What do you know of Ottawa?"

The colony relaxed a little, seeing that he didn't use her real name. But that concern in his voice meant that he was desperate, and desperate people swallow lies better than normal people. "She's a slut," she said. "She's always trying to get onto some one, especially..." She trailed off. Who in the world could she claim to have sex with Melinda?

"Prussia?" England finished.

Seychelles nodded, suddenly very grateful to the person who put England in this state. "Or at least that's what I heard."

England nodded, not even looking at her. No, his eyes were on Melinda. "Hey, Seychelles, can you go to the springs and tell Ella that I found Ottawa?" Seychelles nodded and hurried off. Things were going incredibly well for her.

The Brit continued his walk, still looking down at Melinda. She no longer was the cute girl she was this morning. She was now just a girl, one that seemed to only bring anger to him. How could he not have known? Who could associate with such a person and never hear a whisper about it?

Ottawa opened her eyes, and automatically saw who was now carrying her. She blushed. Where did Prussia go? "England?" she asked. Although he was looking straight at her, he was so deep on thought, he didn't seem to notice that she was awake. Now noticing that she had come to, he adverted his eyes and looked straight forward.

"Hey Ottawa," he said. "What were you and Prussia doing?"

Melinda blushed. She couldn't just tell him about the meeting and the events that happened there. "Oh nothing!" She said quickly, too quickly. "But you know, I had a very nice time! You know he gave me a hand and stuff-"

"Do you like him?"

"I guess you can say that . . ." She trailed off. How do you describe having a near-friendship with Prussia. She debated it for a second, before deciding on a phrase that America uses all the time. "We're friends with benefits."

Melinda had unknowingly just confirmed England suspicions. Hadn't she just said what Prussia just gloated about? Hadn't so many people vouched that she was a slut? Could he even trust her anymore? As if she was hot coals, the man dropped the capital. She landed hard on her butt. What was he doing?

"Whore!" England yelled. "You're nothing more than a whore! And to think that I even-" He couldn't get himself to say it. He started to walk away.

Melinda was hurt and confused. What did she say? Could it have been something she did? Why was he lashing out at her? "Iggy-" she started to say, but was only cut off.

"Don't call me that!" The Brit snapped. "I never want to associate with you again, Ottawa."

She sat there, watching him storm away. What had she done? Was this really what he thought of her? Nothing more than a slut? Long after England was out of sight, Melinda punched the ground, cursing his name, but refusing to let herself cry like a little baby. She felt so stupid. After awhile, she returned to the tent, only holding the attention of sulking for a while.

She noted both Germany's and England's stuff gone just as the sounds of America herding cattle through the camp was heard. The complete randomness that her cousin displayed made her realize something. _I was able to win Eyebrows in two days_, she thought. _Who says that I can't do it again?_ She smiled and curled up into her sleeping bag, falling into a light sleep.

So life does go on.

* * *

><p><strong>BFTL: Now I'm really lonely. :...(<strong>

**MW: DADDY~!**

**BFTL: FIGLIA~~!**

**SEK: *facepalms* Why was I forced to marry you, Blue?**

**BFTL: Hey, you agreed.**

**MW: Guys, I already know I'm adopted.**

**BFTL: Not from MY side you're not!**

**SEK: Blue, she knows already.**

**BFTL: *possessively hugging Midnas* -!**

**SEK: *hits with pipe***

**BFTL: *falls to ground***

**SEK: Comments are loved.**


	8. No Sacrificing to the Sun Gods

**BFTL: CHAPTER 8! The title is a play off of something Midnas sometimes does when we get into the car to go somewhere.**

* * *

><p><em>Ch8: No sacrificing to the sun gods<em>

The next morning everybody was up bright and early at the sound of the teachers blow horns blasting, ripping apart the silence if early morning. Everyone emerged from their tents only to hear the teachers prattling on about the event of the day: a scavenger hunt.

"Okay everybody!" Ancient Greece yelled, "Your teams are posted on this wall here!" she yelled smacking the wall behind her. "You have one hour to find your group and prepare yourselves."

The teachers departed from the stage, leaving swarms of students to look at the incredibly long lists.

"_Hijo de un..." _Ella complained at finally getting to the front and seeing the lists.

"My situation is not much better," Melinda remarked quietly. Natale was simply staring at the list, mouth agape, leaving her friends to wave their hands in front of her face.

"Whats wrong with her?" Melinda asked, confused.

"More wrong than normal? Well, it could be her partners. She has. . . oh, ouch." Ella winced in sympathy.

"Who?"

"Barce and Romano."

Melinda looked at the list. "I have France and Seychelles. Maple . . ."

Ella glanced back at the list, having already forgotten her team. "Ay, I have Belarus and China. Wonderful . . ." she said sarcastically. "Alrighty guys, buena suerte"

"Ve~ this is not going to end well." Rome said quietly in a voice drenched with despair. Rome was utterly worried because of Barce, but happy her _grande fratello_ would be there; of course, Romano wouldn't be happy at all. Melinda was worried about France and mad at Seychelles. Ella was curious on how her and Belarus would get along; she had never met China so she had no opinion for him. The girls split up to find their groups. Ella, heeding the words of both Melinda and Ivan, ran back to the tent and grabbed Russia's pipe and shouldered it before heading out to find her group.

Melinda

Melinda stared at her two partners. France, looking as dreamy as ever, was whispering something in French to the ever gorgeous Seychelles. The capital didn't like it-she was already in a bad mood from the events from yesterday, and a bunch of whispering Frenchies weren't helping.

"Vous savez, il est vraiment un idiot," France whispered VERY loudly.

Seychelles smiled. "Oui, mais Dieu merci, il est," she replied.

Melinda scowled. Even though she always insulted the two Frenchies, she knew French-Canadian, but she preferred speaking in English.

She sighed and said softly, "Vous savez, je peux comprendre tout ce que vous dites."

They didn't hear her and continued on with their conversation. She sighed and leaned against a tree, looking at the list of things they needed to find. "Hey Frenchies!" she said, speaking a little louder. This time she caught their attention. "We need to find maple syrup, a cactus, a pineapple, R2D2-"

'Whats an 'R2D2'?" Seychelles asked.

Ottawa shrugged. "No idea. Continuing on: the answer to life, the universe, and everything; a golden spoon, a red hibiscus flower, explosives?" Melinda looked over it again to make sure she read it right: she had. "A white shiny rock, and Canada." She paused. Why was her brother on the list?

France whistled. "Que l'enfer!" he exclaimed. "Who came up with that?"

"Alfred," the Seychelles stated. She crossed her arms and began to mutter angrily to herself, "England was too lazy to make it himself, being in such a crappy mood last night..."

Melinda's heart skipped a beat. _Was it because of me?_ she wondered. Distracted by her thoughts, she hadn't realized that the gun signaling the start of the hunt had gone off. As the people around her dashed off, France grabbed both of the girls' wrists and flounced off into a random direction, saying, "Come on _mes filles_! Let's find that maple syrup!"

The capital tried to pull her wrist from his grip, but quickly realized that Francis was way stronger than he looked. "I have some in my bags," she said, having given up on her escape attempt.

Seychelles looked at her oddly. "Why?"

"For the pancakes."

Seychelles thought it over for a second. "Is that even legal; taking items from our bags?"

France placed an arm around the African's waist. "They said that we had to find the items, they never said HOW."

For once, the blond had a good point. The only rule to the contest was that they couldn't sacrifice another student to the sun gods (There was an interesting story behind that, but it didn't matter). That meant that if they wanted, teams could kidnap a student and hold them for ransom, or even stage an ambush. Yes, everything was way better when you were a country.

Noting that, they dashed off to the girl's tent and collected their first item. Next was the cactus. "Where are we going to find that?" Melinda asked, feeling the hopelessness set in.

The Frenchies thought for a second. "Francis!" Seychelles exclaimed. "At the hot springs, didn't they have-"

"-a cactus garden!" he competed. The Canadian looked at them confused. She hadn't seen anything like that when she was there, but it was worth a shot.

They started their long walk over, finding a pineapple tree on the way. They got their second item from there.

When they reached the springs, Norway, Sweden and Finland were fighting the Baltic states for possession of a small toy robot; the robot was turning it's head to look between the two arguing teams and chirping like a computerised songbird. Seychelles ducked away, saying something about getting the cactus, as Ottawa and France tried to figured out what the robot was.

After staring at the fight (one the Baltics were losing to quickly) for a few moments, France came up to Sweden (who was in the process of punching Estonia for getting to close to Finland) and swung his arm around his waist. "Mon ami, we both know that these worthless Baltics are not worth your precious time. Why don't the two of us go to a quiet corner-" France stopped. Usually at this point, someone punched him or told him to shut up, but the tall blond was only staring emotionless in return. That was unexpected. "-We could even bring Finland and Estonia with us. We could find a nice, comfy bed-"

At this, Estonia dropped the robot in shock. Melinda, realizing that the robot was R2D2, saw her opportunity and snatched the item before running away. The Frenchman smiled. "I would say foursome, but alas! My dear Iggy calls to me, revoir~!" And chased after her.

Neither of them stopped until they were at at good distance away. Both of them were laughing slightly. Ottawa paused for a second. "Where's Seychelles?" she asked, noting their companion missing.

"No idea, but I bet she's fine. Let's go after the next item!" Once again, Francis grabbed Melinda's wrist and flounced off in a random direction.

_What is up with him and flouncing? _she wondered.

For 'the answer to life, the universe, and everything,' they used google on France's phone and came up with '42'. For the explosives, they raided America's tent and found fire works-it counted.

"We have six items! Only four more to go," France said, looking over their list. They had about another 20 minutes left to the hunt and had stopped for some food.

"Five, if we consider the fact that Seychelles is still missing," Ottawa muttered, eating her ice cream. Much like her brother, she adored ice cream, keeping that and maple syrup with her at all times.

"Well what do you suppose we do about it?" he asked carelessly, taking another bite of his Escargot. Ew.

She scowled. "Call her."

He smiled, cupping her chin in his hands. "Anything for you, ma cherie."

She pushed him away, but just barely. Ottawa was incredibly weak compare to him. _Much like Paris,_ she thought with a shutter. France took out his cellphone and gave the girl a call. They waited in silence as the phone rang.

"France?" A girl's voice from the other end asked.

"Seychelles! Where are you? We hav-"

"Good day Francis." A silky voice from the other end said. Melinda had never heard that voice before, but by the look on the blond's face, it meant trouble.

"Sadiq," he growled. Melinda blinked, taking another bite of her ice cream. Who?

The voice made a "tsk" sound. "Seriously Francis, it takes you forever to save the damsel now that Joan's gone."

France grind his teeth together. "What do you want?" he growled, doing his best to keep his composure. Melinda gawked at him. This was better than cable.

"Your items please, and your other group member; she'll come in handy." Sadiq replied.

Melinda choked on her treat. "What!" she exploded. "No way in h-"

"Deal."

She glared at her partner, shocked. Would France really betray her-actually, don't answer that. Sadiq told France to meet him at the cliff before hanging up. France shut his phone and stood abruptly. "France, are you really thinking th-" Melinda didn't get a chance to finish. France at lifted her up and swung her over his shoulder.

She grumbled and started to pound his back. "Seriously!" she yelled. "We can just go get another cactus! We don't need her to help us!" He didn't reply. "You're going to sacrifice all of our hard work and a member of your team for one brat?"

Again he was silent. Ottawa continued to pound at him until finally giving up a few minutes later. "No don't stop," France said suddenly.

"Huh?"

"The punching, don't stop, _s'il vous plaît_. It feels good."

She groaned and banged her head against his back. She hated him so much.

The man walked in silence, as if caught up in his thoughts. _I wonder who that Joan person is,_ Melinda thought whistfully. _It might actually explain what in the world's going on here._ It wasn't long until the capital started to recognize a part of the woods.

"We're getting close."

She couldn't help but to remember the last time she was here. Paris had attacked her, only to be saved by Prussia. Now starting to think about it, everything bad was happening on this cliff. "Melinda, I know that you're going to hate me for this..." France trailed off, as if reconsidering his thoughts. "But Sadiq's team consist of Greece...and Paris."

Shit. "What!" she exclaimed. "You're just going to turn me in to get harassed by that son of a bi-"

"_Surveillez votre langage, ma cher_" he warned calmly. "And not that I enjoy seeing mes chers in pain, but Greece will do nothing to stop him."

"Dare I ask why?"

"He has a sleeping problem. But don't worry: depending on Sadiq's mood, he'll either stop or encourage him."

"..." Melinda couldn't help but to remember why she hated French people so much. She didn't have time to make another object, as France was exiting the woods and onto the cliff. But unfortunately for Ottawa, she was facing the opposite direction.

She could hear the usual noises of a hostage exchange: the damsel yelling out to her hero; the villain going over the terms one more time; and a comment on how nice the capital's butt looked. Melinda didn't think that she could hate that French capital even more, but alas, it is possible still.

France handed her over to Sadiq, along with their hard earned work. For the first time, the Canadian got a clear look at her captor. He was tall with dark skin, his chin stubbed with facial hair. Most of his face was covered by a white mask and around his neck was a scarf. It made her wonder why every scary person seems to wear that wintry article. His dark hair was covered by a red and gold turban.

"Are you Sadiq?" she whispered, scared to death by this very intimidating country.

He nodded. "I prefer Turkey," he said as he watched France stride away with Seychelles. "Are you Ottawa?"

The girl had gone a pale shade of white at the mention of this country. Ella had told her stories about him, along with Spain's account of how the man before her had nearly captured his precious little Lovi when he was still a little kid. All she could do was nod.

He grinned. "Perfect. Paris, tie her up please."

The perverted capital smiled. "Yes sir."

"And Paris."

"Yes?"

"Do NOT invade her vital regions."

Melinda finally felt a little better. Thank God she had caught him in a good mood. The brunette, however, grumbled and quickly got to tying his prisoner up. "Later, ma cher," he whispered when the boss country looked away. He quickly kissed the side of her cheek. She couldn't help herself but to yelp.

The Turk didn't even glance her way. as he ordered coldly, "And gag her too."

After being gaged and placed right next to a dark skinned man, who was deep in slumber (Greece, presumably), Turkey got to work calling someone on his phone. Behind her gag, Ottawa muffled her ever dooming questioned, "Why am I here?"

Paris slapped her across the face, just as who ever Sadiq was calling picked up. She was too far away too hear what the other end was saying, but what Sadiq said was enough of an explanation.

"Hello Canada," he said in his ever silky tone. "Yes this is Turkey. I have an offer for you. . . . Yes, yes. Well see here, I have your little sister here at my mercy along with an ever-horny Frenchman . . . Now, now Mathew, I have a deal for you. _You_ in exchange for your sist- . . . Alfred, why did you take the phone? . . . No! I'm not going to tell you where I am! . . . Yes, even if you're the hero! . . . Well you do make a shitty one at that . . . Just put Mathew back on the phone- . . . Arthur! What do you want? . . . Yes this is completely legal! . . . I can't control Frenchmen when they're high on hormones!"

Suddenly, America burst through the trees and ran up to Turkey. Instead of punching him, which would had been the smart thing to do, he pointed at him, lauhging. "Beg for mercy foe! The HERO is here to save the day!" he declared.

Turkey stared at the American as England and Canada walked out of the trees too. The Brit face-palmed. "You know, the whole point of a surprise attack is to _surprise _the enemy."

"But I did!" Alfred whined. "You can tell that he's pissing in his pants in fear."

"Or laughter," resorted he resorted. True to his words, Sadiq was suppressing a booming laugh. Regaining conrtrol of himself, he grinned evilly. In one motion, he punched America in the face and strode up to Canada. Before Arthur could help the younger twin, the Canadian was slung over the Turk's shoulders and carried away.

"After him!" America cried through the blood seeping from his nose. England, without so much as a glance at Ottawa, followed the man into the woods, leaving the girl, for the most part, alone.

Paris had- thankfully -disappeared earlier, and Greece was still sleeping. _"Well this sucks,"_ she thought with a pout. Seeing that it would be hopeless to attempt to wake the sleeping man, she sat there until someone remembered her.

Natale

Lucky for Rome, she found both _fratello_ and Barce arguing over something; no doubt the topic was her. She walked up to the arguing duo and stood there; Barce noticed her first and screamed with that huge Spanish smile on his face, "PRINCESSA!"

Romano protectively pushed the Spaniard into the dirt and stood in front of his little sister. "What is it Roma?" _Fratello_ asked over his shoulder, keeping both eyes on Barce as the Spaniard stood and dusted his pants off.

"We're a team for the scavenger hunt." Rome said softly.

"Fine. Who else is with us?"

Obviously, Romano hadn't heard her. "Fratello, I said '_WE_', as in you, me, and _Barcellona_."

"No way in hell am I going on that damn scavenger hunt. And neither are you." Romano said immediately, turning to his sister; she nodded obediently. Romano turned back to Barce and was about to make some smart remark when he saw what Barce was doing: the Spanish city was on his cell phone, dialing a number at light-speed.

"Hola hermano pequeño. Qué es?" the voice on the other end asked. It was obviously Spain.

Romano opened his mouth to ask what the hell Barce thought he was doing but Barce giggled-_GIGGLED_, like, like a little preschooler.

"Like that's not scary as hell." Romano said to himself, and Roma nodded. "What are you doing _bastardo spagnolo_?"

Barce glanced at Rome for less than a second before he exploded, jumping up and down and screaming into the phone, "Hermano_hermanoHERMANO_! Roma me dio un apodo ya!"

There was more excited Spanish on the other end of the conversation. Barce stopped in his preschool-fangirling-fanboying?-and handed the phone to Romano. _He wants to talk to you_. Barce mouthed.

Romano snatched the phone away from the city and held it to his ear. "Hel-"

"LOOOOOOOVIIIIIIIIII~~~!"

"Shut up you damn tomato bastard! You blew my fucking ear drums!" Romano screamed back into the phone.

Rome heard an overly exaggerated gasp. "I HURT MY LOVI?" Spain gulped on the other end.

"I'm FINE!" Romano screamed at him. "What the hell do you want!"

"What's my bro's new nickname?" Spain asked, switching back to complete and utter happiness; Romano could _swear_ he heard that sunny smile. "He was so excited, I couldn't hear him?"

"It's NOT a nickname!" Lovino told the country persistently.

Rome snatched the phone and told him with a furrowed brow, "Toni, I just said his name in Italian."

"ROMA! Que es mi nuevo favorito de la hermana en la ley! How did you say it?"

"Don't call me that, Toni. And I just said 'Barcellona', what's the big deal?"

"Oh, no wonder. In Spanish, we wouldn't pronounce the 'c' like 'ch'."

"Then why would he think it's a nickname?"

"I dunno. But give him a cute nickname, it'll make him happy."

"Why would I do that? Then he'd NEVER leave me alone."

"Por favor?"

Roma stopped. "Ask me in Italian." she told the country on the other end.

". . ." There was a pause before Spain said in a cautious voice, "Per favore?"

Rome sighed. "What do I call him then?"

"I thought Italians were good with pet names?"

Rome looked up at a sunny-smiling Barce, who was staring at her with a look in his big green puppy dog eyes that only translated as 'I'm waiting'. She replied in angst, "Sarà qualcosa di carino e non voglio dare un nome a lui qualcosa di carino."

"Um . . ." The Spaniard thought for a second before saying, "Why not just 'Barcy'? I know my little bro, he'd like that name."

Rome looked at Barce for a second, who looked about ready to hug her to death; she turned back to the phone and asked Antonio with a tone of distaste, "'Barcy'?"

Barce exploded and took her up his his arms, swinging her around and squealing, "N_AAAAAAAAAAAWWW_! THAT WAS SO CUTE!"

Roma started screaming and flailing, dropping the phone; Spain was laughing his head off on the other end. Romano pressed the button on what looked like a garage-door opener and his Mafia popped out from nearby trees. Two very large guys were about to pry Roma from the Spaniard's arms when a gunshot flew through the air.

If there was one thing Rome disliked more than Barce, it was the sound of a gunshot. She shrieked and clung to Barce, who had stopped swinging her around. He looked down at the capital cradled in his arms; the Spaniard's face lit up in a wide smile.

Romano punched him harshly in the arm and said, "_Bastardo spagnolo_, you planned that!"

"No I didn't." Barce said with a smirk and a small shake of his head, not taking his eyes from the capital in his arms.

Rome looked up at him and stuttered. She said, "Put me down."

Barce raised his brows and blinked, a small smile on his face.

"Uh, put me down _Barce_?"

The smile got a little bit bigger.

"_Please_ put me down Barce?"

He blinked again.

Rome sighed, knowing what he wanted her to say. Somehow swallowing her regret, Natale looked away and said, "Please put me down . . . _Barcy_."

'Barcy' smiled and set her down gently. The city planted a kiss on her forehead and said, "Seguro de que mi princesa."

"What did I tell you about touching my sister, bastard?" Romano growled.

"Hmm . . . nothing." Barcy said with a smile. He ruffled Romano's hair and said, "Oh, by the way, that gun was the signal to start hunting. They gave us and hour and we've already waisted about ten minutes. So," he grabbed their hands and ran off into he forest, dragging one protesting Italian and one scared Italian behind him, "Let's get started!"

"What are we looking for again?" Rome asked.

Barce looked at the paper in his hands. "The answer to life, the universe, and everything."

"And where the hell do you expect we find that?" Romano said, angry that he wasn't allowed to bring the mafia with him. Oh well, he'd just beat the shit out of the _bastardo spagnolo_ himself.

Barce shrugged. "I dunno."

"Do we even know what it IS?"

Barce shook his head. "No."

Romano continued to argue with Barce over their objective. Natale looked around and spotted something through the trees; she went to investigate.

It was a dais with a pedestal on it. On top of the pedestal was a silver 42. Rome furrowed her brow and picked it up. Whatever it was here for, it was obviously in the scavenger hunt, because why would it be here if not for someone to find it today? It clearly hadn't been in the forest for long.

Rome carried the 42 back to fratello and Barce. She asked, "Barce, is there anything on that list about a 42?"

Barce blinked at her and didn't respond. Rome sighed and face-palmed; he'd been doing this during the entire hunt. "_BARCY_, is there anything on that list about a 42?"

He looked at the list and shook his head. "No. But it was obviously meant to be found, so I say we keep it."

"And what did you find?" a silky voice said.

The country, capital, and city turned to look at a huge, tan, white-masked man; on his head we wore a large red and gold turban with a droopy white feather. Over one shoulder he carried a big sack and over the other he carried . . . was that Canada?

Romano turned stiff as a rock, his amber eyes wide. Rome, sensing that her fratello was utterly scared, came up behind him and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. Barcy stepped in front of both of them and said, "What do you want, Sadiq?"

The Turk chuckled. "If I could beat your brother's ass, I can surely beat yours, Barcelona. What did you find that I haven't got already?"

"Why would I care to tell you?" Barcy said, a creepy edge seeping into his sunny voice.

As the two continued to argue, Romano felt Rome's hand grip his shoulder tightly. Romano wondered what could make his little sister tense up like that. He turned around and screamed, "YOU _MOTHERFUCKING BASTARD_!"

Paris was there, and he was _holding Rome's curl_. Her _CURL_! Rome looked like an al dente spagetti noodle, all wobbly and unstable. She was making a noise that sounded like a gasp, a groan, a sniffle, and a wheeze all at the same time, and her eyes were fluttering and crying. Leave it to Paris to find the _one_ place where Rome would be affected the most.

Paris looked up at the furious Italian and hurriedly grabbed the 42 out of Roma's jerky hands. Barcy turned around at hearing Lovi's cry, saw his princessa in the state she was in, and socked Paris in the face so hard that his nose broke with a loud _CRACK_. Paris hurriedly ran off into the forest with Lovi hot on his tail, leaving the paralyzed Rome to try and stand on her own two feet.

Barcy caught the capital and looked over his shoulder; Sadiq had disappeared. Turning back to Rome, he noted that there was a small cut on his little princessa's cheek. How she got it, Barce had no clue; there was no water around, Barce was not the brightest Spaniard, and he would do anything for his princessa. He cupped her chin in his hands and leaned the fainted girl's face to his.

In a sheer act of love, he softly licked the blood away. He'd seen animals do it on documentaries on TV. They never seemed to be affected by it, so it was worth a shot. But sadly, Natale wasn't the one to eat her greens. Every time the wound seemed to be clean, more blood would pour out. The taste of iron was unsettling, repulsive even, but Barcelona would do anything for his Princessa.

However, a few yards away, a team consisting of Japan, Italy, and Germany had just heard a strange yell through the woods, one that could be classified as Romano screaming his head off. Italy didn't want to leave his big brother in that kind of state, so he asked if they could go find him.

"Alright," Germany said, annoyed. "Japan, go with Italy that way, and I'll go over here." Thus they split up. The German had wondered for a while until coming upon an awkward scene: Barce licking suggestively the face of an unconscious Roma.

He stood staring for a moment, feeling a rise of anger overcome him. "You bastard!" he yelled, picking the girl off the ground. In his state of panic, he didn't realized that his hands where over a no-touchy zone of her chest.

Barce jumped to his feet, saying, "No! I have to finish cleaning it!" He pressed himself against the girl, licking her face more. No matter where Germany moved her, Barce always found a away to make his tongue have contact with her face.

Suddenly he grew silent and wide-eyed, staring at something off to the side. Ludwig noticed it and looked too, cursing softly. There was Romano, looking like a shade similar to a tomato, clenching his fists.

"I-I can explain," Germany started.

The Italian ignored him. "Why are you licking my Roma's face?" he growled. Not giving a chance for Barce to reply, he shot a glare at Germany. "And you, Potato Bastard! Why are you groping my sister?"

Germany went wide-eyed and looked down. He hadn't noticed that his hands were over her chest. He dropped her gently, not sure how he was going to explain himself this time. The Italian slowly raised his hand . . . and snapped.

From the bushes came no other than the Italian Mafia. Pointing their guns at the enemy, they awaited their orders. "Shoot the little-"

"ROMANO~!" Italy came flouncing through the woods and glomped his brother. "I heard you screaming! What happened?"

"Veneciano!" he gasped. "I'm in the middle of-"

The little brother wasn't even paying attention to him. He was instead coming up to random members of the mafia, asking them questions like, "How you been Firo?" "Is the baby due soon?" "Vee~! The sideburns are coming in great~!"

Apparently, Italy was tight with his brother's force.

About then, Natale opened her eyes, to see the odd scene before her. "W-what happened?" she muttered, standing slowly to her feet.

Japan, who had been staying quietly to the sideline, shrugged. "I have no idea."

She looked at him, silently begging him to stop this whole thing. He took the hint and cleared his throat. "Um Germany-san? Can we get back to the hunt? We have only 10 minutes left."

"JA!" he exclaimed, grabbing Italy and Japan's wrist and dragging them off.

Barce and Romano were silent for a moment. "We're not going to win this," Barce said. "I apologize princessa."

Natale didn't even want to reply. Luckily, Romano had snapped his fingers again, and the mafia disappeared. "Let's just head back to camp," he said.

The all got up and headed back. Rome thought sadly of how after this, they were all returning back to the school. It had been a fun weekend, but it made her wonder. After all this, what was left of the bet?

Ella

Mexico City wandered through out the camp, looking for two people she had never seen before. She asked around until she found the group she had been looking for. Ella sat with them on the ledge they were waiting on, and she inspected her company: there was Belarus, glaring daggers at her, while a knife trembled in her hand. Then there was China, who was busy inspecting a piece of paper in his hand.

"This is the list, aru." he said, handing Ella the list. She scanned over its content; this was going to be difficult.

Just as she set down the list, she just barely missed her hand being stabbed. The paper was not as lucky though, the knife went through it as if it weren't even there. "Hey! Por qué hiciste eso?" she exclaimed, glaring at the paper killer-Belarus.

"You're Mexico City?" she asked in a low growl.

Ella couldn't help but to remember the other night, when Melinda came crying to her, telling her that she was going to die. "You're Belarus?" Ella replied in a similar manner.

"Stay away from big brother," the blond hissed.

Ella scoffed. "Stay away from my Canadian."

China stepped between the two. "Ah great, why is it that I get paired with the arguing people all the time, aru?" he complained. He sounded too much like a girl for Ella's taste.

Belarus flashed one of her knives, ignoring the Chinese man. "You really want me to leave her alone? Then stay away from MY husband!"

At this point, then gun had gone off, signaling the start of the contest. None of them moved, all wanting to settle this first. Ella absentmindedly twirled her hair in her fingers. "Oh really? What happens if I don't?" Ella pulled Russia's pipe from her pocket. "What do you dare to do?"

Belarus took a step back. She didn't say a word, except maybe mumbling on how they should get started on the hunt. Reluctantly, Ella stepped down from her offensive position. She didn't trust the country, not one bit. The all headed out, not sure of where to start. Actually, Ella wanted to start at the top while China insisted on starting the bottom. All Belarus would do was just roll her eyes, saying something about how stupid they were compared to big brother.

Finally, China glanced at his watch. "Aru! We don't have much time left!"

"Well what do you think we should do?" Belarus growled.

Ella, being the genius she is (yeah right), thought about it for a second. 'Why don't we ambush a group who has all the items?" She suggested, noting all of the rules.

"Well, seeing as to the fact that we have no other plan, I agree, aru." China said. Belarus just nodded.

"I'll find a place to wait for them," Ella said, leaving the two countries behind.

Watching the capital walk away, China couldn't help but to groan. "Aru! What does he see in her?" He asked out loud, not caring that Russia's psychopathic sister was right next to him.

But she didn't go all crazy on him. Instead she agreed, saying, "I have loved him for all my life and yet he chooses a damn capital!"

The two countries smiled at each other. "Perhaps we could help each other," Belarus suggested.

China scowled. "This isn't going to be fun, aru."

"But it is necessary."

China folded his arms. "Aru, fine! But the moment Russia is over her, we go back to being enemies."

Before Belarus could agree, Ella came back. She didn't look much happier, but she did seem accomplished. The two countries smiled at her, thinking about their intent to keep Ella away from their precious Russia. Ella stared at them, uneasy about this sudden change in manor.

"I found a main road that all of the groups seem to be using," she said, pointing in the right direction. "We could stay in the trees till we decided to attack."

China's smile only grew bigger. "That's perfect, aru."

Not that she would ever admit it, but that smile really scared Ella. "Yeah," she said, keeping her voice even. "Let's jut go now." They walked through the woods until they came upon the prophesied spot. Each of them climbed a tree and waited. When they only had 15 minutes left, a country came running down the path. It was Turkey with his sack of items over one shoulder and Canada on the other. Trailing behind him was Paris, holding his mighty 42.

"Now! Aru!" China said, jumping down from the tree, wielding his trusty wok; the two girls were quick to follow. China smacked his weapon into Turkey, making him drop his load. Ella rammed the pipe between Paris's legs, knocking him to the ground, howling in pain as Belarus held Canada at knife point.

"That's for being a perv!" Ella snarled at the Frenchman, remembering his naked show at the cafeteria. She had no idea that the man had harassed her little Canadian friend.

"Great! You caught 'em all!" A voice yelled running down the road. It was no other than America, closely followed by England.

"What are you doing here?" Ella asked.

"Oh he kidnapped my little bro!" America proclaimed. "But since I'm the hero, I rescued him!"

England shook his head. "Alfred, Belarus has him."

America laughed. "Of course she does," he said, scanning the area. "Uh, where is she?"

England sighed, saying, "She left with China and Ella a few seconds ago." The team had left when they saw how distracted the boisterous nation was. The Brit didn't try to tell him knowing quite well that it would be pointless to try to be louder than "the hero".

Many yards away, China, Ella, and Belarus were catching their breath. "Do we have everything?" Belarus asked, still keeping Matthew at knife point.

Ella and China both checked. "Oh no, we're missing the red hibiscus flower," Ella said. They all groaned.

"We only have 2 minutes left, aru!" China exclaimed. "What are we suppose to do . . ." He trailed off, staring at something behind Ella. Belarus was quick to follow. Feeling a light tap on her shoulder, Ella turned and saw Russia, smiling at her affectionately as he kept something hidden behind his back.

He took her hand and lightly kissed it. "привет, Ella." he said with a light smile, his thumb gently rubbing the back of Ella's warm hand.

Ella couldn't help herself but to blush. "H-hola Russia," she stammered, wondering why she was panicking so much.

"I have something for you," he went on, as if the dagger glares of his sister didn't bother him. From behind his back, he pulled out what he was hiding: A bouquet of red hibiscus flowers. "I saw them and thought about you, da?"

Ella's face lit up as she accepted the gift. "Aw, they're beautiful," she cooed, burying her red face in the gorgeous flowers. Perhaps she'll be like her little friend and kiss the nation in thanks. Russia thought it was so cute how she blushed nearly to the extent of the red in the blossoms. She peeked up at Russia from underneath her lashes. "Gracias." she said. Russia smiled and blushed a little bit.

China snatched the flowers from the Mexican capital's arms. "This is the last item!" he exclaimed. "Where did you find them, aru?"

Russia smiled. "In a bush." The gun signaling the end of the event rang. "You might want to hurry, da?" he suggested.

The team headed off, coming back to the camp in record time. When they arrived, all of the teams, were turning in their items. As it turned out, they were the only team that had all the required objects; mostly since there's only one Canada and a rumor was about that a certain someone with a scarf had stolen the flower bush.

"Yo! Commie!" America yelled when he saw Russia.

The team shook hands with the teachers in charge of the project before England handed them their prize: a couple dozen scones.

"Do you know where Melinda is?" Ella asked, after disdainfully accepting the lumps of petrified couch stuffing with e frown. She had noticed Natale, but not her Canadian in the crowd.

The Brit didn't answer, still full of hate for the capital. But France did: "We left her at the cliff with Paris and Turkey-"

Ella threw the rock-hard scones in his face, declaring him to be an idiot, before running off to the location. Natale noticed and chased after her friend.

Russia noticed this and tapped China on the shoulder. "China, where do you think she's going?"

China shrugged. "No idea, but it isn't a good idea to follow her, aru."

Russia flashed his creepy smiling, koling ever so slightly. "Da? Why?"

"While she was on the hunt, she was telling me how much she hated you, aru." This only proceed to make Russia angrier; China noticed this and pressed on. "She only hangs out with you because she's afraid of you, aru."

The taller man placed a heavy hand on the Asian's head, crushing his spine ever so slightly. "спасибо, my friend." Russia said, smiling. "It's nice to have someone be truthful to me for once." He didn't actually believe China, but it was going to be the best he was to get. He didn't chase after his precious Ella, deciding that he should better spend his time figuring out how to be less scary.

Natale and Ella

Ella ran, thinking about how much she hated Turkey. If anything happened to her friend, she was going to kill him, not just knock him unconscious like she usually did.

"Vee~! Where are you going, Ella?" Natale asked as she came running up next to her friend. Her legs were strong, from all of the running away she'd done.

Ella grinned. "I'm trying to find the cliff, do you kno-" she didn't get a chance to finish. Rome had abruptly stopped and was pointing to something through the trees.

"Vee~! Looky there~! There's someone tied up."

Ella face-palmed. "Unless it's by a cliff, I don't care."

"Well there is a ledge leading into the open air. Does that count?"

The brunette paused. "Italians," she spat before heading towards the cliff.

As foretold, there was Melinda, tied up into in an uncomfortable position right next to Greece, who was STILL asleep. "Hi guys," the captive said weekly, trying her best not to fall asleep as well. According to some fake study, sleeping Greeks are contagious.

"How long have you been here!" Ella asked, as she started to untie the rope.

"I-I don't know."

She sighed. "I'm going to kill the son of a bi-"

Melinda suddenly looked at her hopefully. "Who told you where I was?" she asked, thinking back her precious Eyebrows.

"France," Ella stated simply. "I had asked England first, but he didn't even bother to answer me." She automatically regretted her words, seeing the sad look on Ottawa's face.

Rome patted her shoulder. "What happened between you two?" she asked a little too happily. She couldn't help it; she was Italian after all.

The blond suddenly smiled. "Oh nothing happened at all! Nothing happened!" she said quickly.

Mexico City sighed and lifted the Canadian on her shoulder. Sitting in that position for so long would have made it difficult to walk-carrying her would be easier. Ella didn't ask any more, knowing that the Canadian capital would tell her when she was ready. "Now come on," she said, motioning towards the Italian (she had found it fun to poke Greece in the stomach). "By the time we get back, we should start packing."

* * *

><p><strong>BFTL: Well, there's chapter 8. On to . . . *dramatic spotlight* THE SOUND OF HIGHSCHOOL!<strong>

**MW: dun-dun-DUUUUUN!**

**SEK: Oh, and guys? I have something I'd like to say to all the fans out there. . . **

**MW: oh . . . **

**BFTL: mai . . . **

**SEK: *to the fans*goes into "Aztec Mode"* I KNOW YOU GUYS ARE OUT THERE! AND WE'RE NOT GONNA UPLOAD THE NEXT CHAPTER UNTIL WE GET AT LEAST FIVE MORE REVIEWS, YA HEAR?**

**BFTL: *cleaning ears* was.**

**SEK: So review and comment!**


	9. The Sound of High School

**SEK: wow, I really wasn't expecting those reviews to come in so quickly . . .**

**MW: yeah, we got them all in like two days. I'ma proud of you guys**

**BFTL: yeah *puts away bazooka that I was getting ready to threaten you guys with* and now for . . . . *dons dramatic spotlight once more* THE SOUND OF HIGHSCHOOL!**

Chapter 9- The Sound of High School

The week started with a load of homework. It was very sudden; none of the students had expected it. The magic that possessed their minds at the beach trip was gone and the whole school was seemingly in a bad mood. Or it could have just been Ella, who was definitely in a bad mood. "This is very bad!" She exclaimed Wednesday night, the night before Melinda's _Sound of Music _auditions.

"What is?" Natale asked, flipping to another page in her cook book.

"We've gone from having the boys in our grasps to nearly losing them completely!" Ella exclaimed sourly, holding up a chart. It was a line chart, displaying big rises and falls in whatever it was demonstrating. She pointed to a green one. "Natale, you have slowly gained Germany's love, but he's not displaying it to you at all!"

The Italian pouted. "I wouldn't say he loves me yet."

Ella pointed at a red line. "And Melinda! You had the highest of all of us, until it suddenly rocketed back down to zero! If you keep doing that, then you'll never make the 265 day quota."

Melinda looked at her funnily. "Quota? We have a quota?"

The Hispanic nodded. "Yes, since we needed to find a way to insert the title somewhere in this fanfiction."

Natale faced-palmed. "Vee~!" she groaned. "Why did you spend all of your time making that?"

Ella placed the chart down and wrote something on the back. "I need it for a math project tomorrow."

Melinda blushed. "We have the same class!" she exclaimed. "I don't want people knowing my dating status!"

Ella suddenly laughed. Her two roommates stared at her, what was so funny? "Oh my God!" she said between laughs. "I'm not actually turning in that one!"

Natale and Ottawa glanced at each other. It was official: their friend had finally snapped. "Dare I ask what your actual chart is on?" Roma asked.

"The mating habits of Spanish turtles."

"..."

Natale

It was Thursday morning. Rome and Ella woke up to the sounds of their alarms. "Where's Melinda?" Natale asked as they got ready.

Ella shrugged. "Dunno. It IS her audition day, maybe she got up early."

The two capitals left and headed to their respective class rooms. When Rome sat down next to Germany, he took one look at her and blushed profusely.

Rome was angry now. "Ludwig." she demanded.

Germany knew he was in some sort of trouble: _she had used his real name_. Grandpa used that name when he was in trouble-which was practically never-but he had heard that tone of voice used on _bruder_.

"Yes?" he asked, his thick German accent shaky.

She smacked him upside the head and told him sternly, "How many times can one man get sunburned so damn much!"

Germany was shocked beyond words. Had the Italian capital just cussed?

"I-I . . ." the German stuttered.

"I even lent you my sunscreen! You didn't use it, obviously."

"But Rome-"

She held up her hand and opened her folder stubbornly, looking away. "I don't feel like talking to you right now, Ludwig."

Germany was not off to a good start. At least, by the looks of it, she hadn't found out about yesterday . . . The German sighed and face-palmed as Italy came in, waving a flyer wildly in the air and calling out, "Roma! Ve~ Roma!"

"What is it _fratello_?" Rome asked, looking up at her brother.

"Ve~!" Italy handed her the flyer and smiled.

"You want me to join the Track Team?" she asked, noting the big red letters printed across the top.

Fratello nodded and Germany stiffened up: Grandpa was forcing him to be on the Track Team, considering that Mr. Germania _was_ the coach.

Italy nodded. "Romano's on the soccer team and Mr. Austria recruited me for the play he's doing, so we didn't want you to feel left out. Plus, you're really good at running." Veneciano reasoned.

Roma nodded. "Okay, I'll try it."

Veneciano took the seat next to her and took his stuff out. "I would be there to root you on, but the auditions are after school today."

"That's ok, Veneciano."

"Ve~ but Romano will be on the field practicing so he'll be able to watch you today!"

_Oh, great_. Germany thought. _First, Rome will no doubt be on the Track Team, then I have to deal with Romano at the same time. Perfect._

"Alright!" Mr. Germania shouted, causing the large crowd of students trying out for the Track Team to calm down and stop talking.

Rome was standing next to Germany who was clenching his fists so hard that he thought his palms might bleed in a desperate attempt to not blush. He couldn't help it; the small, well-fitting uniform looked very nice on Rome. Not that it was an outfit to show off in the first place: a gray shirt with the school's emblem in the upper left hand corner and blue gym shorts.

"We're going to go through some drills today, so I can see what you're good at." Mr. Germania put his whistle in his mouth and flew on it. "_LET'S DO THIS PEOPLE_! We'll start with the 60 meter sprint. Line up along this line here and wait for my signal to start."

As Mr. Germania jogged to the other end of the lane, the students trying out stood at the starting line, leaning down and putting their hands in the dirt. Mr. Germania gave the signal and the students were off; Rome was in the back, but not until she heard, "I didn't know you like to run, Princessa!"

She saw Barce running next to her out of the corner of her eye and screamed, vaulting ahead to 60 miles an hour and passing over the finish line before anyone had gotten 3/4 of the way done. Mr. Germania was blown away by her sudden burst of speed and shouted, "Romano!"

Romano looked up from the opposite field.

"Does your whole family run like that?"

Germany kept running and chased after Rome, who had just climbed the tallest tree out on the field. She sat up on the highest branch, hugging the trunk and staring down at the ground with her big amber eyes. Germany looked up at her and wondered to himself, _How did she manage to climb all the way up there in 10 seconds?_ "Rome?" he called.

"Yeah." Romano had jogged over to Mr. Germania and was explaining to them the tactics of how Italians managed to run at 60 miles an hour. "Well, we're really very slow. It's only when he get incredibly scared that we run like that."

"What scared your sister then?"

"MI PRINCESSA!" Barce ran up to the tree.

"_That_." Romano growled, stomping over to the Spaniard. Romano yanked on his collar, throwing him down on the ground, and shouted, "You bastard! I thought I told you to keep your fat Spanish ass away from my little sister!"

"You said your sister, not your capital." Barce pointed out.

Romano blinked. _He really IS an idiot. _"It's the SAME THING!"

"Rome?" Germany called as Romano started screaming even louder. "Rome? You can come down now."

She shook her head.

Germany sighed. "Hey, Romano?"

"What the hell did you do to my sister _NOW, _Potato Bastard?"

"Nothing. But I don't think she's going to come down until Barce leaves."

"I _know_ that." Romano said, hauling Barce up to his feet. He kicked him in the ass with his new pair of (sharp) cleats, yelling, "MOVE YOUR SPANISH ASS, TOMATO BASTARD TWO!"

"I'll be back Princes-OW!"

"_MOVE IT_!"

And Barce left the field with Romano on his tail, kicking his butt if he slowed down.

Germany looked back up at Rome again who was staring at the ground, paralyzed. "Rome?" he called for the fourth time.

She looked at him, staring into his icy blue eyes.

"You can climb down, right Rome?"

Rome nodded slightly and reached her foot down to the next branch. She very slowly made her way down through the branches of the tree, but when she was about twenty feet from the ground her foot just _happened_ to slip. Germany hurriedly reached his arms out and caught her.

Germany fell onto his back with the little Italian on top of him. "Natale?" he gasped.

She said, "Germany! You're not hurt are you?" Standing, Rome pulled him to his feet and hugged him tightly. "I'M SORRY LUDWIG!" she bawled.

"Rome!" he cried. "Rome, I'm fine! You didn't hurt me!"

"Ve~ ok!" And Rome skipped off to Mr. Germania, who was still staring at his stopwatch in amazement.

_Just like Feli._ Germany thought, walking over to his _Opa_.

"How did I do, Mr. Germania?" Rome asked.

"Everyone off the track!" he shouted.

Roma took a small step back. "Did I do something wrong, Mr. Germania?"

Mr. Germania turned to her. "Not at all, Rome." he said in his thick German accent. He pointed to the other end of the field and said, "I want you to go back to the starting line and when I give the signal, you run here as fast as you can."

"Ve~ OK!" Rome quickly jogged to the other end of the track. Mr. Germania through his arm down and started the stop watch.

Rome started running, making it to the finish line in less than ten seconds. As she was slowing down though, Rome's foot caught on a rock stuck in the ground. She tumbled and skidded across the dirt, coming to a stop at the foot of the tree she had been in only minutes before. Natale groaned.

"Natale!" Germany ran to her side and knelt on the rocky dirt. "Are you ok?"

"Ve~" Roma propped herself up on her hands and shook her head, ridding her fluffy auburn hair of dirt and dust; she looked at the incredibly concerned German. "I'm fine, Germany." she smiled.

"Your knees." he said.

Rome looked down. There were scratches and small cuts all over her knees, and a couple of the cuts were bleeding too.

"I'll take you to your Grandpa-uh, i-if you want." Germany stuttered.

"Um, ok."

Germany looked away as he picked Rome up bridal style and walked back to the main school building. She blushed a bit and snuggled closer to his chest. Germany felt it and looked down at adorable Italian capital in his arms; he smiled and walked a bit slower.

Once they were in the nurse's office, the first thing Germany saw was Barce, who was sitting on a couple large ice-packs to ease the pain in his incredibly bruised butt. He looked up and his face brightened. "Prin-"

Germany walked up to him and socked him across the face. "Shut up Barcelona." he said curtly, walking deeper into the room. He placed Rome on an empty bed and sat in a chair next to the bed as Rome examined her knees.

Roman Empire came to them and asked, "Roma? Cosa è successo?"

"E 'nonno bene. Ho scattato durante il provini di oggi e mi ha portato indietro Ludwig."

The only thing Germany understood in that long blurb of Italian was his name.

Roman Empire thought for a moment before sighing. "What am I going to do with you, Roma?" he said with a smile and raised brows. He patted his grinning granddaughter on the head and headed off to go get something.

"What did you say to him?" the German dared to ask.

"I just told him what happened." Roma said truthfully.

Roman Empire came back a moment later and handed Germany a towel and some rubbing alcohol. "Luddy, dear." Roman Empire asked, making Germany blush: only Prussia and Opa called him that name. _But hey, _Germany thought, _Roman Empire's friends with Opa, so I guess it's ok_. "Would you mind cleaning my granddaughter's knees for me? There's a student who needs more urgent care right now."

"Uh," Germany took the items with a nod. "Sure."

"You should really take care of that sunburn, Luddy." Roman Empire said as he walked away. "I'll remember to give you some aloe cream before you leave today."

_It must be an Italian thing_. Germany thought; he shook his head and turned, stopping dead when he saw Natale's knees facing him. The sight brought his mind back to the task at hand, the task that he had unwillingly agreed to. "Uh . . ."

Rome took the cloth and dipped some alcohol onto it, handing it back to him. Germany swallowed whatever emotions he was feeling and began to dab gently at her knees.

"'Luddy'?" Rome asked with a smile.

"Uh, oh, yeah. It's a, um, nickname that Grandpa calls me sometimes."

Rome smiled and said, "I think it's a cute name."

"Really?" Germany looked up at her with a surprised expression. He'd always thought the so-called 'term of endearment' was stupid, annoying and embarrassing, but if Roma liked it . . .

She nodded smiled, leaving the conversation there.

After about twenty minutes, Rome's knees had been cleaned and dried off. "There." he said, standing and putting the cloth and bottle on the bedside table. "That should do it-"

Rome jumped off the bed and threw her arms around his neck, forcing him to bend over a bit. She hugged him tightly, her cheek pressed to his. Natale was considerably shorter than Germany was: the Italian capital only came up to the German's chest. _His really muscly chest_. Rome noted. She'd seen it at the beach, and it had made her all bubbly inside. "Grazie." she whispered.

Germany froze. Her cheeks were really soft and warm, and the little whisper right next to his ear didn't help . . .

"Thanks for all your help, Luddy~"

Germany blinked and wrapped his arms around her waist cautiously, pulling her body up against his. He stood there, enjoying the feeling of the small capital's warmth against him for a minute. It was very peaceful until . . .

"Ve~ Luddy?" Rome wriggled. "Will you let go of me please? It's been a few minutes . . ."

The German's hands flew to his sides and he stood straight as a wooden board. How long had he been holding onto her?

"Um, eh, sorry Roma." he said. He put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a nervous smile.

She smiled back, putting her own hand on his with a content "Ve~"

"Ay, Princessa, were did Roman Empire go? I need mo-" Barcelona was cut off when he saw the two capitals. Without another word he walked up calmly and punched Germany in the center of his chest, effectively sending him to the floor and knocking the air out of his lungs. Barce picked the Italian capital up and swung her over his shoulder, taking her with him as he walked back out into the hall.

Ella

Ella was more or less alone after her classes were over, but that was for the best anyway. She wanted to attend the student council meeting because she had applied to be a part of it. She eventually found the right room and stepped inside to see a bunch of people looking up eagerly at England. Today was the day he would be posting the list of people who had made it in.

"Okay people, the list is up!" England yelled over the audience; people rushed up to see the list. When Ella's turn came she was very surprised: there was in fact a check mark by her name, but the green check had been turned into a black X by a permanent marker. What was this? It looked like she had been accepted, but she was unsure. She strode up to England and poked him fiercely in the shoulder.

"Ow, what the bloody-" he stopped when he turned around and saw the Mexican capital.

"Oye, Inglaterra, why is my name checked, but then made into an X?" Ella asked with an irritated tone. The blonde's eyes fell to the flooras, and he rubbed the back of his head ashamedly.

"Am I in, or am I not?" she asked with much authority, annoyed at his dodgy attitude.

"Well..." He had no idea what to say. She had gotten in fair, but he had been so mad at Melinda, his anger must have rubbed off to the whole trio, and he had hastily made an X over the green check mark.

His musings were cut short when he heard the sound of metal hitting flesh. England looked up to see Ella tapping Russia's feared pipe against her hand. Fear found its way into his system. Much of the school had heard of the deeds she pulled off when she was angry, most notably her ability to knock people out when they angered her. England instantly began stuttering, and he now realized he should not have messed with her placement.

"Um, y-yes, of course y-you can b-be in the council!" he said hastily, trying to avoid bodily harm coming to him, "I-I have no i-idea who could have messed with th-that chart, you're in I promise!"

Ella gave him a smile and lowered the pipe. "Why, thank you for clearing that up Arturo." And with that she walked down to the rest of the seats and sat near the front, leaving England very fidgety as he remembered the last time she had called him Arturo. It had been at the spa. He blushed a bit just thinking of that incident. Those girls were so devious, why had they done that to him?

Seychelles looked up at the stage where she saw England nearly cowering at the sight of the Mexican capital that Ottawa hung out with. She could not understand that girl. How could such a little thing be so strong and intimidating? Seychelles was suddenly curious as to why she was speaking to England now, especially with that pipe sitting ready in her hands. But all together the Mexican capital stepped down and sat down just a few seats in front of her.

She wanted to know what had happened, so she stood up and took a seat next to her before looking over and casually asking, "What was that about? Up there with the president?"

Ella was just sitting there in her chair when that girl her buddies had told her about showed up. She was some rinky-dink island that neither Natale nor Melinda liked much. She tried to ignore her, tipping her head back as if she was sleeping, the way Greece always did. But the rinky-dink island had asked her a question. Ella glared at her; couldn't the island respect the fact she was pretending to sleep?

"Que quieres?" she asked testily. Seychelles repeated her question, leaving Ella to answer unwillingly, "I was just wondering what _pendejo _had crossed my name off the list when I was supposed to be in. That's all." And without preamble she stood up and walked away, not wanting to talk to the girl anymore. She headed over to where a boy with long drape-like clothing and very tan skin was lounging by the window. She gave him an affectionate punch to the shoulder before saying cheerily, "Hola Egipto!" Said Egyptian looked up, giving a gentle smile.

They chatted for a little while before a skittish Lithuania approached them. "Eh, hello Ms. Mexico" he seemed shy.

"Ja, ja; call me Ella!" she gave the Baltic a slap on the back that almost made him fall. She was in much better spirit after speaking with Egypt.

"Um, okay, _Ella_." he said, testing the word on his tongue. "I was wondering if you could help me with something." he studied her, watching for a possible reaction. He had rather conflicting feelings about the capital. He had never really spoken to her before, but he had heard her impossible tales. She kind of reminded Lithuania of Mr. Russia, except she seemed much nicer. She was the kind of person he wanted to protect him, like a bodyguard. Or a mercenary.

"Poland keeps switching out all of my clothes for his ridiculously girly wardrobe he insists is fashionable and he won't listen when I tell him to stop! Do you think you could freak him out a little? Tell him to 'stop annoying Lithuania'? I would really appreciate it. I'm sure he would listen if it was in fear of his life . . ." he mumbled grumpily, thinking of the very method Russia controlled him.

"Um, you want me to beat up Poland?" Ella asked confused.

"Not necessarily, just scare him a little? I'll make it worth your while I promise. I could bring you delicious food every day for lunch?" Lithuania smirked internally when he saw the capital looking very intrigued by his offer. The capitals love of food was also widely known. In the end, Ella's gluttonous side won out. I mean, what harm could come from simply scaring Poland?

And she would get food beside...

"What did you have in mind?" she asked curiously. After hearing the plan from Liet, the ever quiet Egypt asked if he could join in.

"What? I get very bored around here sometimes," was all he offered as explanation. And then Mexico City and Egypt became allies of sorts. Maybe "partners in crime" would be more appropriate. And with that, they began to plot in order to scare the crap outta Poland.

"Hey, Liet, do you think you could get a hold of one of Russia's uniforms for me?"

Melinda

The next day was torture for the Canadian. She was nervous about her audition for the musical. Truth be told, it didn't start well. She slept in late, waking up to see that her two roommates were already gone. _Why didn't they wake me up!_ she thought fiercely as she hastily pulled on her clothes. But it wasn't until she opened her door did she suddenly dread her day: leaning against the wall opposite of her was Prussia. Although she wanted to avoid him at all cost, she had to admit that he looked rather cool the way his white hair complimented his eyes. _But why am I thinking about that! _she though, embarrassed at her own thoughts.

"Hey Melinda," he greeted, mischief shinning in his eyes. "Isn't today awesome?"

Ottawa blinked. "Why are you here?" she asked plainly, locking her room door behind her.

Prussia smiled. Before she had time to move, Prussia had trapped her between his arms, leaning against the door behind her. His face got really close to her, so close that Melinda could feel his soft breath against her quicken one. "I was wondering if I could carry your books for you," he asked, knowing quite well how flirtatious he was being.

The capital nearly agreed, but quickly stopped herself. She liked England, not Prussia, and if the Brit saw him holding her books he might get the wrong idea. "N-no thanks," she stuttered, ducking out from under his arm. "I'm fine on my own."

He shrugged. "Okay." He suddenly picked her up, holding her bridal style. "I'll just carry you then." No matter how much she complained, he didn't let her go until she was right in front of the North American classroom. Melinda was embarrassed, hating the looks she got from others when they saw the sight. One girl had even flipped her off.

"Now," Prussia said, lowering her down to her feet. "Would you like me to awesomely carry your books to your seat or do you want to be carried awesomely to your next period?"

This time the girl knew better. "Carry my books please!" she said, hoping to get rid of him.

He gave a low bow-was this a joke to him? "Anything, my-"

"Stop it!" Melinda suddenly yelled. Prussia straightened himself out, curious at the sudden outburst. "I don't know what you're doing, but this flirty German-France thing is not you! So would you just stop it?"

The German raised an eyebrow. _So being like Francis wasn't going to work after all,_ he thought sourly. That left him off at a bad start; Prussia smiled at himself. For some reason he thought that the pout in her lips made her so very cute.

But what was he thinking? She wasn't cute!

He nodded and ruffled her hair. "See you around, Mel." The capital grew red with anger as the ex-country walked away. The only person who could call her "Mel" was big brother. With a groan, she walked into her class. This was going to be a bad day.

The day passed by slowly. She didn't hear about Prussia again until lunch when she discovered that he had told the cafeteria lady to put her lunch on his tab. As nice as it was, it was frustrating. At the time of the auditions, she walked to the music room, feeling her heart pick up. She already knew that she wanted to be Leisl von Trapp, the eldest daughter of the von Trapp family.

She didn't have high hopes that she was going to get the part, but it was worth a shot. When she walked into the room, she saw something unexpected. There was more students than she thought possible, all of which were going over whatever part in their scripts.

Her hopes sank further. There was no way she could ever out act anything of them. among the many faces, she spotted Seychelles, France, Hungary, and...

"_Bonjour_," a silky voice cooed into her ear. Shivers ran down Ottawa's spin as she shrank away from Paris.

He smiled. "It's nice to see you here _ma cher_..." He trailed off seeing something someone behind the capital's shoulder.

Before she could turn to see who, a firm hand was placed on her shoulder. "How many times do I have to tell you Paris?" Prussia asked steadily. "It ain't awesome to steal another man's prey."

Paris scowled, but then spat. "We'll have l_e sexe _later cher." Before walking away.

Melinda pushed the man's hand off her shoulder. "What are you doing here?" she asked, feeling her face redden. Was it from anger or embarrassment?

"To audition for the play," He stated simply.

Melinda rolled her eyes. "Like I would believe-"

"But I think that it would be an awesome idea for me to apologize as well," he stated. She stared at him with a look that read "I'll like to see that." Uncomfortably, he cleared his throat. "I-I'm sorry for what I did earlier," he said. "I wasn't being very awesome and I was way out of line."

Melinda nodded. It seemed pretty legit to her. "I forgi-" She didn't get a chance to finish, as Prussia had placed an arm around her waist. She yelped.

"However," he said with a smirk. "It doesn't mean that I'm just going to leave you alone."

A clap ranged throughout the room. "Alright everyone, attention please!" Austria ordered. "Would you all please take a seat?" There was a clatter of noise as the attendees all took a seat in one of the many desks in the room. Ottawa scanned the room, looking for England in a sheer hope of sitting next to him. She spotted him leaning against a wall, clearly not happy about being there.

Before she could stand next to him, Prussia took her hand and pulled her to a desk. He sat in the seat and dragged her onto his lap. She squealed and jumped off, running to a corner on the other side of the classroom, where she sat. Melinda prayed that no one saw that, but by the deadly glare that England shot at her, she could only guaranteed that he'd witnessed it.

Austria cleared his throat, regaining the attention of the room. "Order," he demanded sternly. "As you all know, we are gathered here to decide the parts of this year's musical, which shall be the 'Sound of Music'. For those who didn't know, it is a Broadway musical based upon the plight of the von Trapp family escaping from Nazi-occupied Austria. As adventure pack as it is, it's also a romantic love story between the nanny, Maria, and the retired military officer as they break the bonds of their soci-""

"BORING!" someone yelled. The class snickered as Roderich scowled.

"Alfred, if you're going to be a pain in my side, then I suggest that you leave," he demanded coolly.

America, jumped onto his desk. "Have no fear Austria! The hero here is just saving this production from your boring-ness."

The teacher went to his desk, took out a book, and flipped to a booked marked page. "According to this America, you are currently failing my music class since you keep on rapping the songs I give you to sing."

"I was just Americanizing it!"

The Austrian continued on as if his student never said anything. "And if you don't part take in this production, you will fail and will have to take summer school. And I do believe that'll interfere with your birthday plans."

Alfred, for once, frowned. "The Joker must occasionally defeat the Batman, but the Batman is the hero, so he WILL PREVAIL!" He sat back in his seat quietly, as if he didn't just cause a whole scene. Everyone stared; they didn't even know what just happened.

Roderich wrote something in his book. "Well in that case, let's start the auditions. When I call your interested part, please get into a line on stage and perform your selected part.

Ottawa sat there awkwardly as each part was called. As far as she could tell, there was only three people who auditioned for each part: France, Paris, and Italy. As much as she would disapprove, she had to admit that the Italian had a good singing voice. _But he sounds so much like a girl, _she lamented.

At last, the part of Leisl was called. Reluctantly, she made her way to the now forming line. Most of the girls were auditioning for her; even Seychelles. She felt incredibly nervous about having to get up there and perform in front of everyone. "Now, I want you all to sing Leisl's part of the song 'Sixteen going on Seventeen.'"

Her heart sank further. Oh no. Seychelles was one of the first up. She sang beautifully and danced equally as well. Austria nodded to her, saying, "The dancing was unnecessary." France and Paris were kicked off the stage before they could try-out, since "You guys sing to deep to play a sixteen year old." Italy, with his high pitched voice, passed quite well, though he always said "Vee~!" at each long note.

"Ottawa, you're next," Austria said, giving her a small, kind smile.

She nervously twiddled her fingers, before softly singing: "_I am 16 going on 17/I know that I'm naive..." _Roderich mouthed out the word "louder" to her. Was she really being that quiet? She raised her voice slightly. _"...Fellows I meet may tell me I'm sweet/And willingly I believe..."_

She still wasn't loud enough, she looked among the crowd and saw a dreadful sight: Prussia, holding up poster boards of England shirtless. Her cheeks flushed in anger and embarrassment. _Where did he get those?_ she wondered. Then remembered at the beach, France taking picture of England "at really suggestive angles", just to have Russia sell the camera . . . to Prussia!

The capital was so flustered in her mixture of emotions, that she didn't realize that she was singing as loud as America could. As she sang, "_Totally unprepared am I/To face a world of men/Timid and shy and scared am I/Of things beyond my ken _. . ." She noticed England staring at her oddly. He didn't smile, in fact his face was drawn as his eyes were pinned onto her emotionlessly. It was unsettling.

Melinda quickly finished the sound before taking a bow and hurrying off stage. When she reached her seat, she found a folded up note. she quietly unfolded and read:

"_Since I'm awesome, I figured out that you get louder when you're angry/embarrassed. Sorry :) _

_-Prussia The Awesome"_

She couldn't help but to smile. The auditions slowly continued on. When it ended, Austria announced that the results would be posted on Friday. "But first-" he pointed at England. "Arthur! You didn't audition for anything!"

"Can't I just be in the ensemble?" he snapped, clearly not happy about this.

Roderich shook his head. "No, now get up on that stage and sing something!"

The Brit suddenly smiled a cruel smile. "Anything?" The teacher was forced to agree. Some of the students, including Melinda and Prussia, stayed behind to watch. England pulled out a small leather book from his bag. Flipping to a seemingly random page (Ottawa suspect that he knew what page it was) and started to sing.

"_Flare up and burn it down_

_from corner to corner with that hellfire_

_don't leave a single trace_

_burn down even their souls_

_Flare up and burn it down_

_answer my calling-"_

"IT FEELS AS THOUGH WE'RE SUMMONING THE DEVIL!" America screamed as he ran out of the room. The president stopped.

"Not the devil," he stated simply. "Just Russia." At that, everyone else, including Austria, ran out. They would all rather face the devil than Russia any day. Well everyone except Melinda, she instead had gone invisible.

England, not seeing her, laughed. "That gets them every time!" he said. He suddenly started to move his hand through the air, as if petting something. "Wasn't that fun Fluffy Mint Bunny?" he asked.

Melinda jaw dropped. Was he insane? Who was he talking to? The blond walked out, still talking to his invisible friend, leaving the capital alone to think. _That song...it sounded really sexy_, she thought wistfully. _It's a shame he's crazy though. _She then left, wanting to tell Ella and Natale about the strange events of her day.

**BFTL: So that's what he did with those pictures . . .**


	10. Ella Finds a Better Use for her Pipe

**Chapter 10: Ella Finds a Better Use For her Pipe**

* * *

><p><span>Ella<span>

"Hey, Liet!" Ella called from her seat a few days later, waving the Baltic down.

Lithuania flinched a little before recognizing the voice. He made his way to sit next to the capital he had become friends with. "Yeah?"

"I was just thinking . . . since I'm going to do this job for you-I mean, I know I haven't done it yet but I will-can I have some of your food? It looks good . . . I'll let you have some of mine!" she said happily as she brought his food closer without waiting for an answer, she knew Liet wouldn't say no. She was visiting with Egypt and Lithuania today as the final part in plotting. "You got the outfit Liet?" she asked, her mouth full of food. Toris brightened.

"Yup here it is!" he said, discreetly passing her a brown bag. He had stolen one of Russia's old suits and made a pair of strange boots so she would appear as tall as the country.

"This is going to be much fun," Egypt said quietly. Ever since they started scheming, he had opened up to these two much more than he had to other new people. With their plan in place, they enjoyed the rest of their lunch together, swapping food occasionally (read: Ella ate it).

"You got that right Gupta." she said as she devoured more exotic cuisine.

"You look good Egipto." Ella complimented. It was late at night and they were going to get Poland. Egypt was wearing over exaggeratedly flowing white clothing. He was holding two leather straps in his hands that lead to . . . was that a pony?

"Thanks. You too . . ." he murmured.

Ella was wearing a replica of Russia's normal outfit. She was wearing a pair of enhanced boots so she now stood at over six feet tall. She had a makeshift scarf around her neck. They weren't planning on having Poland see her face so there was no wig or anything. She absolutely loved the feeling of being tall. It was like she was made for it. Lithuania had gone ahead and stationed himself in the hall ready to take pictures.

"Okay, lets do this!" she declared, and the duo went out into the hallway. Mexico hid herself behind a corner and waited for her cue. She watched the scene unfold.

Egypt left the pony in front of the darkened window so it left a silhouette. Poland, being Poland, he could instantly tell when a Pony was nearby-because apparently, if you're Polish, you can do that. He opened the door before exclaiming, "OMG! Pony, like, what are you doing here?"

But as soon as he took a step outside he was overtaken by a ghostly form that knocked him down. When he looked up he saw the 'ghost' holding his pony. but as soon as he blinked, they were both gone.

And then he heard it: a maniacal laughter. He had been lucky enough to have not heard in quite a while. The sound grew in volume as Feliks looked around frantically trying to figure out where the sound was coming from. And before he knew what was going on, he felt something soft wrap around his eyes and a gloved hand cover his mouth before he was gagged.

Everything clicked in Feliks' mind: this was _Russia_ that was holding him, his soft 'kol'ing striking fear into his heart. Poland felt himself being lifted off of the floor and pinned to the wall behind him. Poland was scared for his life now, what had he done to piss the Russian off? He was left to his thoughts until the figure holding him spoke.

"Haha, silly Feliks . . ." the voice began. Ella had been working on her impression of the large country for a while now, and it had been deemed so good it was scary by her partners. "Tell me Feliks, why have you been bothering poor Lithuania? All he does is complain to me about your atrocious tendencies. This needs to stop; you are affecting his work habits . . . ."

Everything got worse for Poland when the hands let go of his shoulders and a split second later a very hard cold object was stuck into his chest. _Oh god . . . _Poland thought to himself, _is it, like, the pipe? Am I going to die? _

The over-exaggerated country came up with several methods of his death being achieved before Russia spoke to him again. "Are you even listening Feliks?" she growled at him. "You WILL be leaving my Liet alone from now on."

Ella cursed herself for slipping and saying 'Liet' instead of 'Lithuania' and she panicked. She took one good swing with the pipe and knocked Poland unconscious. Then she looked down on the unconscious Pole. It was probably for the best anyway.

Lithuania decided to come out of hiding. "What was that for?" he said. He didn't seem very bothered by having his friend being unconscious.

"I panicked." she offered simply. "I didn't get him that hard, he should remember most of this."

Egypt joined them with a smile on his face. They looked at all the splendid blackmail pictures of Poland being scared out of his mind. They all walked down the hall laughing and joking along the way, returning the pony to the grounds before heading to bed.

Natale

Barcelona was prowling down the hall with his favorite capital in his arms. He was upset. How could such a cute, affectionate little girl choose the emotionally challenged German over him, the Passionate Spaniard? In his mind, Barce seemed like a much better match for the little Italian. She was glaring at him; damn, Italians were so adorable when they were mad. . .

"Barce. Let. Me. Go. NOW!" she said, trying to be frightening. It didn't suit her much. Her Hispanic friend was made to be a fierce protector. But not this little thing, she wasn't very threatening - at all. He hugged her closer; she was so cute~

They arrived at her dorm, and Barce set her down. But before Roma had the chance to even reach for the door nob, Barce turned her around and pinned her to the door, putting their faces close. "Por qué no me amas nena? Qué he hecho mal a usted? Absolutamente nada . . ." he said smoothly, gently putting his forehead on hers.

"Rome?" Germany called, running around through the dorms looking for the little Italian. Knowing how "passionate" Spaniards could be, Germany had suspected that Barce would take Rome to her dorm and then . . . The German swallowed; he didn't want to think about anything past that point.

Germany looked down a hall and kept running - wait. Germany took a couple steps back and peeked around the corner. Barce had pinned Rome up against the door to her dorm; their foreheads were pressed together and they looked right into each other's eyes. A little part of Germany's heart died. Barce leaned forward a bit more . . .

Rome turned her head at the last second so Barce missed his target and kissed her cheek.

The door opened and the capital and the city fell into the dorm. Germany froze; his hopes shattered at the sight of seeing that damn smiling Spaniard on top of his little, scared Italian. He said something in Spanish that Germany didn't catch.

The nation ran down the hall, slamming and locking the door to his own dorm. What was that all about? Germany slumped onto his bed and buried his face in a pillow. They were about to kiss. And then of course they had ended up against each other like that.

That is what did it to Germany. All he could think about was: she hadn't resisted. Had that slimy city had finally one over Feli's little capital? That was the only thought that came to the German's mind. They must _finally_ be together. He was expecting it to happen sooner or later, but the other part of himself really didn't want that to happen - _never_ wanted it to happen. But it seemed to late already . . .

Germany's heart darkened as he filled with anger. He didn't want to talk to that girl anymore. That, that little . . . "Verdammt!" he swore: they had track practice the next day.

"Pick up the speed, Ludwig!" Opa shouted as his grandson passed him.

Germany didn't mind all the yelling for once: it kept his mind off the sunny little Italian trailing behind him. He was surprised that she could have kept at that speed this whole time: they were already on their third mile and had been running for the past half hour. Germany was out of breath and his lungs were burning, but the Italian was happy-go-lucky as ever, smiling and running with light steps.

She ran up beside him and asked in a voice of concern, "What's wrong Luddy?"

Germany screwed his eyes tightly shut and grit his teeth together. Roma was the _last_ person he wanted to talk to right now. But somewhere deep down inside, there was a part of the German that really _did_ want to talk to her. He ignored this little plea and didn't answer.

Roma ran beside him for the rest of the lap, where Opa announced they were done with their run. Germany collapsed on the bleachers and took a large swig of his water. Rome came up to him and asked, wiping some sweat off her brow, "Ve~ Luddy?"

Germany swallowed his regret and asked in a gruff voice, "What?" He didn't look up at her, but rather down at the metal canteen clenched in his hand. Thank Gott it was metal, or it would have crushed under the German's ever tightening grip.

"What's wrong?" Rome sat down next to him.

"Nothing." he spat. Just this once, couldn't the Italian capital read the atmosphere?

Apparently not! "Yeah, something IS wrong." she persisted. "You're never this cold."

Germany gave a defiant "humph" and looked away, running his hand through his sweat-soaked, blonde hair. Rome furrowed her brow and cocked her head. "Luddy?" she asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

He shrugged it off sharply and snapped, "I don't want to talk."

"Hey, GRINGO!" Barce shouted, running over from where he had been talking with Opa. "Keep you're hands off my Princessa!"

He stopped and stood behind Rome as she stood and asked, "What's with you today, Germany?" She didn't use a harsh tone; if anything, her voice sounded severely concerned.

Germany's head snapped to look at her. "What's with me?" he growled. He stood and looked down on her. "What's with me? I'll tell you: the fact that you get me to care about you then stab me in the back!"

"What?" Rome asked, completely shocked.

"How can you date a bastard like _HIM_?" Germany motioned roughly to Barce, who was smiling with a huge, creepy smile.

The Spaniard looked down at the Italian, who was shocked beyond words, and squealed, "WE'RE _DATING_? NAAAAAAAAW~~!" He picked Rome up in his arms, squealing like an obsessed fangirl.

"Wait . . . waityou'reNOT?" Germany put two and two together and realized something: NO. They WEREN'T dating.

Rome never got a chance to respond. In the first place, Barce was squealing waaaaay too loud, and second: "YOU'RE DATING THE BASTARDO SPAGNOLO?" Romano screamed. He was by his sister's side, prying her from the squealing Spaniard's arms. The enraged Italian pushed Barce to the ground and whirled on his sister. "Why the hell are you dating _him_?"

"I'm not, fratello!" Roma said.

"No - no, Romano, it was just a misunderstanding, I-I-I'm sorry-" Germany tried to explain.

Romano turned to him and growled, "Stay outta this, Potato Bastard!" He looked back at Roma and was about to say something when she slapped him.

Rome. SLAPPED. Him. And she slapped him hard, too. Roma's complexion had changed entirely: she actually looked . . . terrifying. _Really _terrifying. There was a hard, stony look to her flaming amber eyes. Her fists were clenched as she screamed, "_Damn it_ Romano!"

All three men were shocked by her tone: it was angrier than Romano could ever be, and so much louder than America. "WHY THE FUCKING HELL DO YOU HAVE TO BE SUCH AN ASSHOLE AND TAKE EVERY SINGLE DAMN THING THE WRONG WAY!"

Romano looked scared, absolutely horrified. She pointed to Barce standing behind Romano and continued, "THAT BASTARD AND I ARE NOT DATING NO WAY IN FUCKING HELL!"

"But, Roma-" Barce tried to calm the furious little capital.

Roma looked at him, giving him that hellish stare, and raised her fist; Natale socked him in the nose. The Spaniard looked down his nose and fell face first into the dirt, knocked out cold.

She looked at Germany next, who had lost all of the blood in his body somewhere during all of this. They stared into each other's eyes for a second, flaming amber and icy blue. The flames in Roma's eyes died down, replaced with water. Tears flew from her face as she turned and ran back to her dorm, leaving behind a cloud of dust and a broken heart.

"What . . . the . . . hell . . . was . . . that?"

Germany continued to stare at the spot where the capital had disappeared; Romano turned to see that a large crowd had gathered. They'd all seen Roma's outburst.

"Uh, well," Romano began shakily, rubbing his bruised cheek tenderly, "Roma's _my_ capital too. . ."

Melinda

The next day had been uneventful for the Canadian. Prussia had waited for her outside her room again. This time he had treated her like Spain treated Romano; going all "YOU"RE SO CUTE WHEN YOU'RE ANGRY~!" on her. Again, she had yelled at him, telling him to stop it.

"Why?" he had asked. "I'm not awesome enough for you?"

Melinda scowled. "Quite on the contrary. _Prussia _is awesome enough. Prussia acting like a Spaniard isn't."

He folded his arms. "Then how should I act?"

"Like you're old perverted self!" The words fell off her lips before she could even think about it. She was going to regret that. She quickly added, ". Likedontgropemychestand-"

She didn't get a chance to finish. The German had started laughing. He tipped her chin towards his face. "That was awesomely cute," he teased. He playfully tapped her lips with his finger, causing her to blush insanely.

Melinda brushed his hand away. "Look, I don't know where you're coming from on this, but I would much prefer being just friends."

He smiled and shrugged. "Sure that's okay," he stated plainly. The girl released a sigh of relief. She had feared that he was looking for a completely different kind of relationship. "However-" He suddenly gave her a peck on the forehead. "-I would hate if it just stayed that way."

Ottawa grit her teeth. She was so going to have Ella kill him. _What if someone saw that_? she worried.

"Vee~! Melinda~! Prussia~!" Running down the hallway was Italy, looking very excited. "That cast list is posted!"

Without a word, the capital followed, Prussia close behind her. Italy walked-actually, skipped-down the hallway to the bounce of his curl. He didn't notice Melinda squealing when Prussia tried to place an arm around her waist.

On the music room door, the list was posted. Students surrounded it, some moaning in disappointment, others yelling in joy. "Vee~! This is scary~!" Feliciano whined, seeing the big crowd that had gathered around it.

Prussia nodded. "Since I am awesome, I can handle it." He lifted both Ottawa and Italy onto his shoulders. "MOVE IT!" he yelled, to many of the students' alarm. "PISSED OFF AWESOME GUY COMING THROUGH!" Knowing better than to cross Germany's older brother, everyone moved, creating a clear path to walk down. His chin raised high, he strode down the area full of pride. Melinda banged her head against his back. This was embarrassing.

He placed the two on the ground and let them look at the list. "Vee~! What part are you, Melinda?" the Italian asked.

"I'm . . ." Ottawa found her name on the list. "Liesl?" She couldn't believe it: she got the part! Prussia patted her on the back as Italy congratulated her.

"Vee~! That's so cool!" he exclaimed. Italy searched the list for his own name. "It says that I'm Maria!"

"That's a girl's part!" Prussia yelled. "If he gets a girl's part, then I better get a lead," he mumbled. He scowled when he saw his name. "I'm Rolfe's _understudy_?" he swore. "The Goddamn _understudy_?"

"Well it isn't so bad," Melinda said, hoping to calm him down. "The person playing Rolfe is . . ." She paused. This wasn't good.

The German was impatient. "Well who?"

"E-England."

As expected, the ex-country was non too pleased. "What the-that could ruin everything!"

She tilted her head in confusion. "Ruin what?"

Prussia paused. "Nothing," he spat. In his mind, he cursed his awesome self._ Nearly told her the plan genius,_ he scolded. "I'm going to ask that damn Roderich why he made me the understudy," he said, opening the door and marching inside.

Italy shrugged. "Well wasn't that weird."

"Yeah . . ." she trailed off. She had to admit, his reaction was strange. The two left the crowd and started to walk the halls, both preoccupied with their own thoughts. Italy was content with thinking about pasta, but Melinda was curious about this plan of Prussia's.

"Vee~! Look! It's Roma," Italy said, pointing down the hall. Sure enough, there was the capital, walking away from the pair. She was still in her track uniform for some reason. "ROMA~!" he called, jumping up and down and waving like Italian's did.

Natale looked back at them and quickly ran off, making a "WAA~!" sound, similar to the one that Italy made.

"WAA~! ROMA~!" The Italian chased after her. Ottawa stared blankly. _What ever could be wrong? _she wondered. She wasn't very good with people, and she knew it. Melinda ran in the opposite direction, in hopes of finding Ella. _She'll be much better at this._

She ran to the outside grounds, hoping to find her soon. The Canadian ran along the classroom windows, but stopped when she heard an heated argument._ Is that Austria and Prussia? _She paused by an open window and ducked below the sill, listening in intently.

"Why should it make a difference!" Prussia yelled.

She imagined Austria folding his arms. "It's a delicate subject, and you know it."

"Yeah, but give the part to that damn Brit?"

"I thought it best for the production."

"Yeah. You thought real well, giving the part to a drunken fool. You know that he's undependable!"

"But he's more dependable than you! You weren't even able to handle being a country!"

There was a paused. "It's about that then, isn't it?" Prussia voice was soft, but it sounded deadly. "Fine." The door slam-presumably, Prussia had stormed out.

Ottawa sat there, thinking to herself. How many times had something like this happened? All because he's not a country? That must had been lonely for him. She could recall seeing Spain and France caught up in a political debate at dinner while Prussia sat there uncaring, eating away at his wurst.

She felt a pang of pity._ People may sometimes forget that Mathew's there, but they always treated him like an equal,_ she thought.

"Hey Ottawa! Whatcha doing?" A loud, obnoxious voice called. She turned and saw America crouching down next to her.

Melinda laughed nervously. "Oh nothing!" she said, not wanting her cousin to be the idiot he is. "Just-" she started moving her hands on the ground. "-Looking for my, um, glasses."

The man excepted the answer! "Oh really!" he exclaimed. "Let the hero handle the situation!" With that, he practically put his eye to the ground, searching for the item.

_He doesn't even realize that I don't wear glasses_, she thought in annoyance. _He really is an idiot. _She bailed when he wasn't looking.

Absentmindedly, the capital walked back to her dorm, wrapped up in this strange turn of events. She had forgotten all about her friend until she came upon Romano and Italy pounding on the door to their dorm, demanding that Roma let them in.

"I-I can handle it," Melinda said softly, shooing them away. "You guys go grab some dinner." She sighed and unlocked the door with her key. The capital took a cautious peek in. Natale was punching a pillow and swearing her head off. _She must take to Romano when she's mad, _she figured.

Ottawa gulped and walked in. Jack, Monty, and Bernard were huddled in a corner in fear. She ignored them, walking to the mini-fridge. Pushing aside all if the Italian's left over pasta, she pulled out her gallon container of chocolate ice cream.

She scooped a huge hunk with a spoon and shoved it into Rome's mouth. "Eat," she ordered. The Italian didn't even put up a struggle. She gratefully ate the ice cream and went for more. The two sat in silence on the floor, eating away at the frozen treat.

Ella came in a few minutes latter. She took out her own spoon and started eating as well. "So what happened?" she asked between bites.

Natale stabbed the food with her spoon. "Romano's being a big asshole!" she growled. "He's always ruining everything for me. And Barce just wouldn't leave me alone! The other day he tried to fucking kiss me! And Germany saw! I hate him! I hate them both!"

Ella swallowed. "You want me to take care of them?"

"YES! Smash their damn brains out-"

Melinda cleared her throat. "Before we result in violence, may I suggest a more peaceful approach?" Her fellow capitals glared daggers at her. Hesitantly, Melinda voiced her opinion. "It could just be that Romano's protective of you. If you think about what happened with the Italian Wars, it makes sense: Italy leaves with Roman Empire for a while and when he finally comes back to him, the two just get separated again. Maybe he's afraid that it would happen with you.

"Also," Melinda continued, "Barce lives with Spain, and we all know how Spain is with Romano: overly affectionate. He probably doesn't understand that . . ." She trailed off. The two girls were just glaring at her.

"Ottawa, shut up. You're embarrassing yourself," Ella ordered.

The Canadian pouted and snatched the carton from their hands. "Then you guys can go get you're own ice cream," she said, going to the corner and sulking as she ate large mouth fulls.

Ella stood, deciding on what she was going to do. "Are all you Canadians emotional eaters?" she asked as she started to gather her stuff. She needed to talk to Egypt.

"No, just me," she said.

Natalie had dragged three huge containers of her leftover pasta out of the fridge and offered one to Bernard. Seeing that his mistress was in better spirits, the robo sheep's indigo collar changed to a bright, cheery yellow; he stuck his face in the container and began eating away like a hog, getting pasta sauce and garlic cloves all over his white wool.

"Natale, I don't think that Bernard should be eating pasta. He is a sheep after all-"

"Shut up, Ottawa." the Italian demanded through a mouthful of rigatoni.

Mexico City muttered something about Student Council obligations and left. Germany was about to get the surprise of his life.

* * *

><p><strong>MW: Wow, you're violent when you're mad . . .<strong>

**BFTL: And you're an emotional eater.**

**MW: *hugs gallon of ice cream protectively* So what if I am? *eye twitch***

**BFTL: *pulls out ever-faithful bazooka*eye twitch x2***

**SEK: Comments are loved. BREAK IT UP YOU TWO!**


	11. Two Steps Forward and One Italian Back

**urg, so sorry for those of you who actually read this. we're all just really lazy and Blue and Midnas have their own fanfics to worry about. thank god we've got up to chapter 14 written ^^**

**Ch. 11: Two Steps Forwards and One Italian Back**

* * *

><p>Natale<p>

Rome woke up with Barnard in her arms; the little robo sheep was snoring contently, the pasta sauce and garlic cloves tangled and stained onto his wool. She'd have to give him a bath later.

She got up and got dressed in a red shirt and black jeans. The robo sheep pawed at her feet, begging to go out with his mistress today. "Bernard, you really need a bath." Rome said, tying her hair in a pony tail. He "BAA~"ed at her, collar flashing yellow and pink. She picked him up with a sigh. "Don't do those colors too often, Bernard." she told him, opening the door. "Reminds me of Poland."

They made their way to the cafeteria. Even though it was the weekend, the cafeteria still served food; thank God, because Rome for once did not want to cook her own breakfast. She grabbed a plate of pancakes and drowned them all in syrup, giving one to Bernard, who happily ate it on the top of the European table.

Rome was able to finish one pancake in peace before "PRINCESSA!"

Just her luck: the damn Spaniard was up. "I don't want to talk to you Barce." she snapped, shoving a huge mouthful of pancake in her mouth. Bernard's collar flashed red.

The cheery Spaniard sat beside her and patted her on the head. "You're so cute when you're grumpy, Roma~" he said with his trademark smile.

"Don't touch me, asshole." Rome growled, gripping the fork tightly in her hand.

"Naaw~" Barce really had to resist taking the seriously grumpy Italian up into his arms and snuggling with her. No doubt she'd punch him in the gut and struggle and scream, but she was just too cute~

"Shut up. And don't call me cute."

"Well, you can't say that I can't call you that because 'cute' is for chicks, because that's Romano's excuse."

"If you haven't noticed, douchebag, I _AM_ a chick."

"Oh, I have. Don't worry."

Rome rolled her eyes and took the empty plate up to the lunch ladies, storming out of the cafeteria with Bernard under her arm and the Spaniard on her heels, blabbing on about some useless topic.

Rushing outside, Roma dashed around all the buildings, through various hallways, jumping through crowds, until she had convinced herself that she'd lost the Spanish douche.

But today was obviously not Rome's day: she crashed into Germany in the middle of the hallway. "Rome!" The German nation scrambled up, picking the Italian up off the ground. "I've been looking all over for you-"

Rome pushed herself out of his arms fiercely and yelled, "And I was trying to spend the day in peace! But NOOO, I can't, CAN I? First I run into the Spanish Bastard and now I just _happen_ to meet up with the German Asshole!"

"Roma, please," Germany began, taken aback by the harsh language she was using. He'd never thought such a cute little thing like Natale could be that aggressive.

Rome was having none of his pleading though. And apparently, neither was Barce: somehow, he had managed to find the Italian capital and was storming up to Germany. "Gringo! Stay away from my Princessa!"

"Whoever said she was _YOURS_?" Germany growled. "Last time I checked, Roma didn't like you either!"

Barce pushed his face into the German's, and the two stared into each others' eyes menacingly. "What are you trying to say, _gringo_?"

"HEEEY!"

The two looked at Roma with blank faces. Heat waves seemed to be coming up off of her head. "You two are both assholes." she stated plainly. Rome looked at Barce first. She walked up to him and pushed him in the chest harshly. "Why do you keep following me around all the damn time?"

Barce looked down on her and said with an air of command, "Because I'm the Passionate Spaniard, that's why."

"Bullshit!" Rome screamed. "Haven't I made it clear that I hate you, Barcelona?"

Germany snickered a bit. She whirled on him and shouted, "And _you_, the _German_. All YOU did was mess things up."

"But Roma-"

"Don't call me 'Roma'!" she fumed. "All I want is to be left alone, alright?"

Rome began to walk off down the hall, Bernard trailing behind her. The city and country both took a step to follow, but Rome called over her shoulder, "And don't even _think_ about following me, or I'll send Ella after you!"

The two men were left in silence for a little while; they looked at each other, and narrowed their eyes.

"What did you do to make my Princessa hate me, gringo?" Barce growled.

"What did _I_ do? What did YOU do?" Germany growled. "Roma's all upset because YOU won't stop stalking her."

They were nose-to-nose again. There was no way this could possibly end well.

Melinda

It was late afternoon, and the Canadian was walking back to the dorms happily. After her big ice cream bilge the day before, she figured that a work out was what she needed and luckily the other Canadians were going to the ice rink to do what they did best: play hockey. Hugging her pet beaver, she thought about the good time she had had. It had been a close game- her team had barely won, mostly since the opposing team had Alaska on their side.

No offense to any Alaskan, of course.

"Do you think we'll be able to do this every weekend Jack?" she asked, for once getting the animal's name right.

The animal appreciated this and decided to remember who his owner was. "Maybe." The girl smiled and hugged the animal harder. She took a short cut through the park, hoping to get home in time for a shower. Melinda stopped, seeing a familiar person lounging under a tree. _Isn't that Prussia?_ she wondered.

She carefully approached, only to confirm her suspicions. The albino was lying, as if sleeping, lightly petting Gilbird on his lap. She smiled, how cute.

"What do you want," Prussia growled, not even opening his eyes.

Ottawa jumped a bit, not realizing that he was awake. "Oh nothing!" she mustered, slightly embarrassed.

His eyes suddenly flew open and he jumped to his feet. "Ottawa!" he exclaimed, trying to regain his composure. "W-what brings you to my awesome presence?"

"Oh I was just walking through." she stated plainly.

He was only able to give an "oh" before the two settled into an awkward silence. The stood there oddly, waiting for the other to speak. The blond broke the silence.

She pointed to Gilbird. "Is that your pet?" she asked. The canary chirped.

"Yeah," he suddenly gained an aura of pride. "This is Gilbird! The most awesome pet ever!" The bird flew to the Canadian. She laughed and held out a figure for it.

"Hi Gilbird," she said. She suddenly held up Jack for Prussia to see. "This is Justin, my beaver." The man started to laugh, causing the girl to blush. "I didn't mean it like that you pervert!"

He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Sorry, it was just too tempting." He smiled at her cheerfully, something she thought that she'd never see from him.

"So what are you doing in the park all by yourself?" she asked, taking a seat underneath the tree.

Prussia sat next to her. "Oh, just being awesome. What were you doing with-" he motioned to her ice skates. "-those?"

"I was just playing hockey with my family." His eyes soften at the word "family", making her automatically regret her words. _That's right, he's an outcast._She swallowed her guilt and asked the appending question. "Prussia, do you like being alone?"

"It's awesome being a loner!" he yelled.

"But is it awesome to be alone?" she asked again.

He scowled. "Why do you care?" he demanded, suddenly getting defensive.

"I-" she paused. Why did she care so much? "I care because I know how it feels, to be ignored." She couldn't help but to remember when England had woken up after fainting; how he had not been able to see her.

He was suddenly in her face, holding her by her shirt collar. "At least they don't do it on purpose!" he snapped.

She gently placed a hand on his cheek. Tears were starting to fall down her face silently. "Which makes it ten times more painful," she whispered. He gaped at her, unable to speak. He released her, just to pull her into a tight embrace. Melinda was shocked. What was this?

He held her tightly, as if she might disappear is he let go. "You'll never do that, right?" he asked. "You'll never ignore me, Ottawa?"

She patted his back. "Never."

Ella

Dressed in all black, Ella and Gupta snuck out of their rooms, meeting each other down the hall.

"Okay Egipto," she said, pointing to her cohort, "cue, music!" And with that, Egypt pressed a button on the boom-box he had poised on his shoulder, and the _Mission Impossible_theme song began playing ever so softly; and with that, the duo snuck down the halls toward a certain German's room.

But they were stopped by footsteps coming from down the hall. They stilled at the sight of Seychelles glaring at them. Ella's eyes widened as she quickly pulled the pipe out of nowhere and without a single word being exchanged, she knocked Seychelles out.

"Crap. I gotta stop doing that . . ." she said without much remorse as she looked down at the unconscious body. And with a loud sigh, she pulled a large collapsible box out of the same seemingly bottomless pocket she kept the pipe in. Without offering any explanation to her companion, she efficiently stuffed the unconscious girl in the box, closing the lid and leaving it in the hallway for someone else to find. They continued on their journey without much conflict.

"Uh, yea about that . . . It was Natale's idea; I was just doing her a favor. She's been wanting to do that for ages." she explained.

Once there, Ella whipped her favorite weapon over her shoulder and with a vicious swing she split the door in two without even trying the handle. With a loud crunch, she stepped over the now useless door into the room without further introduction. She saw the person she was seeking on the bed, with his head in his hands.

Ella motioned with a flick of her hand for Gupta to stop the _Mission Impossible_. Gupta smoothly raised a finger and pressed the stop button on the boom-box. But the music didn't stop-it just switched to a loud, very catchy Egyptian song. Ella turned to Gupta, her eyebrow raised as she watched him fuss with the boom-box. He kept pressing the stop button, which only seemed to switch the songs back and forth. He finally just banged his fist on several different buttons, breaking the machine all together.

Getting back to the task at hand, Ella lunged forward and wrapped her hands around Germany's throat until he passed out due to lack of oxygen.

"I meant to do it this time. Hand me some rope Gupta . . ."

Germany awoke with a start, banging his head against a hard surface. He looked around frantically only to realize that he was tied to a stiff chair with some rope, unable to move. As he glanced up he noticed Egypt holding a light directly positioned at his face as Rome's friend, Ella, stepped into view. He held some sort of strange respect for the country; I mean, she was able to ambush and capture him right?

As soon as he thought this though, he realized something: Roma was mad at him. Ella was one of her best friends, the fierce protector to her Italian and her Canadian. _Mien Gott, I'm screwed ._. . Germany's thoughts trailed off as Ella held the pipe she had just used a minute ago to bust his door in to his face.

"What in _Dios's_ name have you done to my Italian? She's depressed now and I know it was because of you . . ." She said, her voice dripping with venom. Germany now knew why her friends hid behind her in times of need. This girl was _scary_, and she had the strength to carry out her threats too.

"I tried to apologize! She wouldn't listen!"

"What. Did. You. Do?"

"I-I guess I yelled at her . . . That stupid Spaniard wouldn't leave her alone and I was trying to help her, I promise!"

She lowered the pipe and gave him a "What are you? Stupid?" look. She sighed and broke the ropes apart with her pipe. "You're not supposed to yell at her _Alemania__!_She's sensitive! _Me da coraje . . ._Why do you not consider her feelings?"

"I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I really didn't mean too . . . How I can fix it?" he asked, hopeful.

"Be nice to her. Try and win her back! She is an Italian, forgiving you won't be too hard."

Germany considered her words. She was right, he would just have to be nice to her, try and make it up to his little Roma . . . When he looked up again though, the intimidating duo was gone.

Prussia

That night, Prussia went back to his dorm feeling a new respect for Melinda. _She really is something,_ he thought amused. He flopped onto his bed and stared at the ceiling, allowing himself a moment of peace.

Francis and Antonio slid up to his bed. "Hey Gilbert, heard you had your arms around Ottawa today," Francis teased, patting the man on the head.

"Yeah, what about it?"

Spain giggled. "You're a step closer to winning her heart." Although the Spaniard referred to the German's plan, Prussia couldn't help but to turn a shade of red.

"W-what? Are you insane?" he demanded, flustered. "There's no way I could win her heart."

"Aw, why so self doubting?"

"Cause she's kind and sweet and understanding and . . ." He trailed off, a Spain and France had started to laugh. "What's so funny?"

The blond recovered first. "Mon aim, it sounds as though you have feelings for her."

Prussia threw a pillow at his head. "Idiot. Why would I like a skinny-ass slut like her?"

Spain laughed. "You're denying it~!" he cooed. "It's so cute~!" He also got a pillow to the face.

"Shut-up Pedo!"

The two men laughed and left the ex-country alone. They had to agree, this was a most interesting turn of events.

BFTL and MW and SEK

The three girls stared at the screens of their own laptops. They all wondered one thing: Why was this chapter so bloody short?

* * *

><p><strong>cuz who says the authors CANT be in the actually story?<strong>


	12. Fairy Talk

**BFTL: HOORAY FOR MASS UPLOADS!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 12: Fairy Talk<strong>

The weeks past, September ending and October starting. The days were getting cooler, though for Ella, Natale, and Melinda, things were just heating up. Every time Ella wanted to be with Russia, China would politely point her in the opposite direction; Barce and Germany were getting the silent treatment from their little Italian; but Prussia was seemingly keeping himself by Ottawa's side. The girl's noticed that he was always outside of her dorm, waiting for her every morning and was always walking her back. Her friends didn't comment, much to the Canadian's relief.

Natale

It was raining one day, with heavy storm clouds and a seemingly dark sky. Rome liked days like this for some reason; but don't take that the wrong way, Rome liked the sun. It was probably for the sole reason that it was _always_ sunny and bright in Italy, though, that she liked days like this. They were rarer, much rarer.

She stood outside under the awning of the big double doors leading into the school, facing the wet and muddy soccer field. _If only fratello were here, _she thought. He loved to play around in the mud, kicking the soccer ball around and sliding on the slick grass.

Natale walked out onto the field, standing here and looking up into the sky, breathing in the watery air. She was drenched within seconds, her clothes and wet hair sticking to her skin. after this, Rome decided she'd go back to the dorm and take a shower. Just a little bit longer . . .

She opened her eyes and furrowed her brow. Rome turned around to see Germany standing right behind her. "What do you want?" she snapped.

"I want to apologize." he said, the rain messing up his perfectly combed hair. His icy blue eyes looked full of sadness.

"Humph." Rome turned around and looked away defiantly. No way she was going to accept his apology, not this soon after he'd messed everything up. Why did boys always seem to screw things up, just when they were going along so smoothly?

Germany knew this might happen. He pulled the silent Italian into his arms and hugged her tightly. She struggled, harshly elbowing him in the stomach, but the German pinned her arms to her sides and turned her around. "Roma," he began, "please, just listen to me."

She glared at him and looked away, starting to squirm again. Germany pulled her up to his chest and wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling into the crook of her neck. "Roma, please?" he said over the clattering on the rain.

Natale stopped her squirming and relaxed her tense muscles a bit, allowing herself to be pulled even closer to him. Germany took that as a 'go ahead' and looked her in the eye. "I'm sorry I said all the things I did, Rome. I have to stop assuming so many things all the time."

"Oh," Natale was at a loss for words.

And apparently, so was Germany. He just looked at her for another moment then gently put his forehead on hers, closed his eyes and whispered to himself, "Warum zum Teufel ist das so schwer zu sagen?"

"Germany?"

Germany opened his eyes and looked at her.

"You DO know I have absolutely no idea what you just said, right?"

"Oh, d-did I say that in German?"

"Mmhmm."

"Oh, seriously."

"Yes."

"Oh, well," Germany looked off into the distance for a second then suddenly burst, "I love you Roma!"

"Wa. . . ?"

Germany gently cupped the little Italian's face and leaned down a little bit closer.

"Gri-gri-_gringo_!"

Germany stopped, centimeters away from Rome's lips. _Verdammt!_ he swore to himself. He was so close to kissing her, too. He looked up and sighed, letting go of Rome's face and wrapping his arms around her waist protectively. There was only one person that would call him 'gringo': "What do you want, Barce?"

The Spaniard seemed to be up in flames, even unprotected from the rain as he was. "Keep . . . your . . . damn . . . hands . . . off . . . MY . . . _PRINCESSA_!"

"Barce, she never _was_ yours to begin with." Germany said, holding the scared little Italian capital closer. She had gone limp, probably from fear of Barcelona.

"And she wasn't _YOURS_ either!"

"She liked me from the start, it was clearly obvious." Germany snapped back.

"No she didn't." Barce said, storming up to the German.

"Fine then. Let's let Rome decide."

The country and the city both looked down at the capital-just to realize that she'd fainted during their fight.

* * *

><p>Rome woke up in Grandpa's office. "What happened?" she asked, sitting up. "And why am I all muddy?"<p>

"You fainted when Germany and Barce were fighting over you, nipote." Grandpa said, walking up to her. He was soaked to the bone with a contented smile on his face. "They'd gotten into a fight over who's fault it was."

"Who's fault for what?"

"Why you'd fainted. Ludwig was telling Barce that he'd scared you so much that you fainted, and Barce was accusing Ludwig of poisoning you. I heard them out there and had to throw them both into the Principal's office while I took you back here."

"They were what?"

"Don't you remember?"

Roma shook her head, incredibly confused. "No."

"None of this rings a bell to you, nipote?" he asked.

"N_oooooo_." Natale said, distressed.

Grandpa sighed. "Well, don't worry about it. Go back to you're dorm and wash up."

Natale nodded, still incredibly confused, and walked out, hearing Grandpa mumble something about why people never remember an dramatic plot point.

Ella

Ella was stalking the halls, in a foul mood. Poland had taken some of her clothes and was now cross-dressing with them. She was going to hunt him down, incapacitate him and take her clothes back, even if it took her all day.

As she walked down the hallway she looked out one of the many big windows that lined the halls. She saw the grounds, vast and green, colors appearing darker because of the downpour. She was wearing long pants and jackets and shawls, but it didn't help, It was too cold in this country in the winter. It was times like this when she envied countries that were tempered to extreme weather. In her country, even in the winter, it was mild outside. She sat down at the bench-like sofa under the window and pulled her legs in, curling into a ball trying to conserve warmth, with her head on the window sill, watching the rain fall.

She thought about the rain that fell back home. During the rainy seasons, the rain would fall so fast it would be highly reminiscent of a hurricane; falling in an almost horizontal pattern, snapping trees with its fierce winds. Not all of the storms were like this, but they were the only ones she remembered so... She could find Poland later, its not like he was hard to find, his obnoxious voice carried well~

The girl awoke in the same sofa she had been sitting on just a moment ago. _Did I fall asleep?_ she thought in a semi-conscious manner without moving. She didn't even open her eyes, she felt much more comfortable than she had when she had sat down, most notably, much warmer. She must have moved in her sleep because now she was laying against the arm of the sofa with her legs out in front of her.

Ella didn't care if she was in the middle of the hallway, she felt very tired now, and all she desired was to back to sleep on this sofa that seemed to magically get comfier. So with that she turned herself towards the back of the sofa and snuggled deeper into the material, coming to rest; falling asleep again.

* * *

><p>Russia was walking down the hall after lunch. He hadn't been feeling very hungry so he had just filled a thermos with black tea and was heading back to his dorms when he saw something strange. A person was curled in a rather uncomfortable-looking position on a seat with their head on their knees, a familiar mane of curly brown hair being the only thing exposed. Russia approached closer, wondering about the identity of the person. But as he grew closer the person mumbled in a different tongue before their head lolled to the side, revealing it to be none other than Mexico City.<p>

"_P-Por favor, no pones mis palabras en un computadora . . . Es usted siquiera se traduce esto . . . ?_" She mumbled. Russia had no idea what she had just said, but she sounded distressed, even in her sleep. Russia realized she must be uncomfortable sitting like that. Without thinking much of what he was doing he sat close to her on the other side of the sofa and shook her a little, trying to wake her up. She didn't awaken but only mumbled again, "_Polonia ve mejor en mi ropa que yo._" quickly before falling limp.

She ended up laying on his lap; Ivan blushed. How could she still be asleep? Before he knew what he was doing, Russia pulled the girl completely on his lap and rested her head in the crook in between his arm and his chest, putting his arm around the heavy sleeper. Ella moved, turning toward him and snuggling closer. Ivan smiled. _Just like at the camp out . . ._

And with that the two stayed there together, Ivan eventually falling asleep out of the sheer comfortableness of the warmth the girl was emitting.

* * *

><p>Ella woke up, feeling as if that might have been one of the best naps she had had in a while. She realized that she was no longer close to the sill, but laying on something. She looked up and saw a broad chest covered in a tan coat leading to . . . the pale face of Ivan Braginski . . . who was sleeping? Then everything clicked: she and Ivan had both been sleeping there.<p>

Ivan's eyes opened and she realized she had been staring. He smiled and pulled the girl a bit closer. "привет . . ." he said sleepily, his strong arms squeezing the air out her, before letting her go and sitting up. They shared a fond moment in silence, both trying to figure out what had happened, before Belarus walked around the corner, seeing them caused a big frown to crease her face as she strode up and sat in between them glaring at the capital.

"Brother, I was worried when you missed dinner. What were you doing?" she asked glaring at the largest occupant of the sofa. But all Ella and Ivan were thinking was: they'd missed dinner? How long had they been there?

"And you," she said, glaring at Ella. "I recommend you go check on your Canadian. She's gotten herself in a spot of trouble."

That was all it took to get the Mexican to her feet. Before running away, Ella threw a look of sadness at the tallest country as she raced off to go save her friend.

Melinda

The girl yawned as she pulled herself together. She had been up all night, trying to memorize her part and now she was stuck in a two hour rehearsal, dancing in killer high heels, having to deal with England's coldness to her. And to top it all off, it was raining.

"England, would you please look Ottawa in the eye," Austria ordered before returning back to another group. In their little corner, Prussia, England, Melinda, and Paris (he was the girl's understudy) had set up a circle of benches to practice the dance sequence for "Sixteen Going on Seventeen".

In the end, Seychelles had gotten the role of the Baroness and France was the Captain George von Trapp. Loud America was Max Detweiler, a seemingly perfect fit. The rest Melinda didn't care for; she didn't know many other people. "Let's try it again," Prussia said, preparing himself for another go.

The three others groaned, not seeing where he was getting all this energy from. _He_ _is_ _working_ _hard_ _though_, the capital noted. She knew that it was because he was trying to prove Roderich wrong, but it was getting him nowhere. England was working hard, though he still acted like he didn't like it there. Since he was an English gentleman, he already knew how to dance pretty well and his singing voice was decent. Melinda was sad to note that his voice wasn't as creepy as the day he tried to summon Russia. She thought it sounded _tres_ sexy.

He took her hand as the music started and began leading her in the dance. They weren't actually singing yet, but all of them were mouthing the words under their breaths. Ottawa jumped onto a bench. She was suppose to jump gracefully from one bench to another, but it didn't end well. Her heel broke, causing her to land on her ankle and fall off.

The force of impact left her dazed for a moment, but when the girl's brain started to refocus, she realized that she was on top of someone-England. She blushed and rolled off the man's hard chest. He was a bit dazed himself. He probably didn't realize that she had even landed on him.

"Are you alright?" Austria asked, lifting her to her feet. Her reply was a gasp of pain from standing on her ankle.

"W-what happened?" Arthur mumbled, sitting up himself. Everyone ignored him.

Roderich looked at Melinda's foot, saying, "It seems as though you sprained your ankle. England can you-" He paused, seeing the sad state the Brit was in. "-Prussia, can you take Ottawa to the nurse?"

Prussia nodded and lifted the girl bridal style. "It's more awesome than limping," he stated,when she complained. He walked in silence for a few seconds as he made his way out of the music room and down the hall. "Are you alright Mel?" he asked.

"I'm not dying," she muttered, noting that he was taking the long way to the clinic. Curious.

"Yeah, I know. I was just being awesome by asking," he stated. He let that hang for a few seconds, before asking, "What do you see in him?"

"Who?"

"What do you see in that self-centered, idiotic, drunken, unawesome, careless-" With every word his grip on her tightened, as if angered by the very thought of his rival.

The Canadian didn't like the way he talked about Eyebrows. "Why do you care?" she interrupted harshly.

The German paused. Why DID he care? He just wanted her for the sex, yet the very thought of her got his heart beating. "I . . ." He didn't have an answer. How could he have one? He instead did what any French person would: Prussia smashed his lips against hers, biting slightly on her lower lip.

Melinda was shocked. She didn't kiss him back; she just lay there in his arms, her mind racing to unscramble what was going on. Was he seriously kissing her? And if he was kissing her, didn't that mean that he liked her?

When she didn't return the favor, Prussia stopped and kicked open the clinic door-when had they arrived? "Old man!" he called. "I got another awesome patient for you!"

The empire took the girl and started to work on her ankle, telling the German to scram. He obliged, giving the girl a small smirk before leaving. Had a boy just kissed her? She had kissed her brothers and sisters many times before, but then again, Prussia wasn't her brother or sister. Roman Empire placed an ice pack on her joint, saying how she'll have to stay off it for a few days.

He left to write up an excuse pass for gym, leaving her alone for a few minutes. Should she have kissed him back? Did she like Prussia enough? Did she even love England anymore? Melinda was released and told to go back to her dorm. She had a crutch to help her, but the walk was going to take awhile.

She paused and decided to rest quickly in a classroom. Melinda opened the door and saw a familiar blond staring out the window and to the pouring rain. Britain? She quietly limped over to him, realizing that he was muttering something under his breath. "I know Tinker Bell, but it just doesn't make sense," he was saying. She stood next to him and gave a sigh, alerting him of her presence. He jumped back and forgetting that he was still mad at her, mustered, "W-what are you doing here Melinda?"

She gave a small smile, noting the use of her real name. He just about as quickly realized that too, and return to his indifferent self. The man crossed his arms and looked away from her, as she asked, "Who are you talking to?"

"No one," he spat.

She shrugged. "That's too bad Arthur, I could've sworn that you said Tinker Bell." The man scowled and opened his mouth, prepared to say something, only just to have the girl continue, "I love fairies you know. When I was little, Matthew convinced me that America was actually a fairy. So I the next time I saw him, I cut his shirt off without him noticing to check to see if he had wings. He was so mad. He yelled that people shouldn't harass heroes and swore that I was going to be a cougar when I grew up. I was only five then, so I thought he meant the animal, so I pretended to be a cat for a few months." The Brit couldn't help but to laugh at the story. "I wish I could see fairies though," she gave with a sigh.

He couldn't help but to ask, "You believe that fairies exist?"

"We're people meant to represent geographical locations. If we exist, then why not fairies?" They were silent for a second. "I best be going." Ottawa picked up her crutches, ready to leave, when a hand was placed on her shoulder.

"Wait." The Brit looked down nervously. "Tinker Bell says that she wants to here more of your stories."

She raised an eyebrow, smiling softly, but none the less returned to her spot. "Um well let's see," She searched her mind for another story. "When I was eight, Matthew taught me to drive his car. I ended up going on a cross country trip to Alaska."

He laughed. "Why?"

"Alaska back then was kind of stalking my brother. So she had told us that she had maple-syrup-flavored ice cream at her house. So of course I had to go there. On the way, though, I caused 50 car crashes."

He smiled. "What else?"

She placed a hand on her chin. "Mattie, Alfred, and I crashed a wedding when I was 13 . . ."

"What?"

"Nevermind. But there was this one time D.C. and I went to Hollywood to stalk Tom Cruise . . ." She paused, seeing someone's reflection in the window. She turned and saw Ella standing at the door.

In an instant, the Mexican capital had run up to the Brit and banged her pipe into his skull. He fell over unconscious. "Are you alright?" she asked Melinda, looking legitimately worried.

"Yes!" her Canadian replied. "Why did you do that?"

"I thought you were in danger!"

"W-what? No, I was making progress with him!" She groaned. "Help me take him to the nurse." By help, she actually meant "carry the idiot for me", she was just too polite to say so out loud. Mexico City took her hint and lifted the man onto her shoulders and taking him away from Tinker Bell.


	13. The Plot Thickens

**Chapter 13: The Plot Thickens**

Ella

"Hey! Liet!"

Lithuania turned around to see Ella running towards him. He stood up from his seat at the European table and said, "Hi Ella."

"Mind if I join you for lunch?" Ella said, eyeing his plate of food. The exquisite smell drifting off of whatever he was eating was mouthwatering-well, to Ella it was anyway.

"Um, sure." Liet moved his plate over to make room for her. "Want some food?"

"Don't mind if I do." Ella said, her green eyes bright as she grabbed the plate and began stabbing at the wonderful portions.

"Do you like it?" Liet said after a few seconds of watching Ella chow down.

"L'et, I l'ke 'LL th' f''d th't y' m'ke." she said. Boy, the Mexican sounded a lot like Sweden.

"Do all your people eat like that, or is it just you?" Liet asked.

"Well, not too many of them do, but I sure do . . ."

Liet smiled.

* * *

><p>"Hey, China?" Russia, over at the Asian table, asked in his adorable Russian accent.<p>

"What, aru?" China said, delicately picking up some rice with his chopsticks.

"Why is Ella hanging out with Lithuania?"

China stopped and looked up at him. He sighed. "Ivan, I thought I told you, aru."

"Told me what?"

"The only reason Ella hung out with you was because she's afraid of you, aru. She obviously likes Lithuania."

"She . . . likes Lithuania?" The Russian asked, confused.

China smiled, he had the perfect opportunity to drive the two further apart. It didn't help when Poland showed up out of nowhere.

"Yeah, I mean, like, totally!" he said on China's other side. After the staged encounter with Ella, he had woken with a faint recollection of what Feliks had assumed was a dream. At any rate, after that he had left Lithuania's possessions alone. "I mean, like, look at them! They're looking all buddie-buddie together, nie?" he said gesturing to the two sitting together. "They must be, like, TOTALLY together now." The three looked on at the purported-couple and took the scene in. Lithuania was offering her the food off of his own plate and they were eating together in a very cute manner.

"Like, aww!" Feliks cooed. "They look, like, so cute!" The three continued to watch as Feliks made the situation worse, and worse. "I mean like, I bet they have, like, made out in the hallway or something. I mean, look at them. Don't only couples share food and junk?"

"I agree, aru." China said, spurring Poland's speculations further for the sake of his agreement with Belarus. "Are you watching this Ivan? It has to be true." They looked back to see Ella looking excited and gesturing to a bowl of soup in front of her. Toris gave a small nod before Ella picked up a spoonful of the dark soup and put it in Toris's mouth for him, letting him taste it. He looked pensive for a moment before giving a smile much to her joy. She then pushed the bowl closer and they shared the soup.

Russia looked upon the two with a frown. What was she doing with Lithuania? He thought about their personalities. Toris was skittish, unsure and not at all confident. Ella was strong, stubborn, counting along with her overprotective tendencies. She was the exact opposite of him. He could barely hear what China and Poland were saying, although one of China's statements stuck: _'She only hangs out with you because she's afraid of you.' _Ivan didn't think it was true, and if it was, he didn't want to believe it. He didn't think Ella was afraid of anything. Why would she stand to be around him if she was afraid?

When the two began sharing more of their food, Russia's face grew warmer, and when they began to eat the soup, Ivan could stand no more. He had always shown her nothing but kindness, trying always to care for the girl, and then she turns around and hooks up with his henchmen? What kind of girl does that? What did _Lithuania _have that he didn't? He stood up, and without a single look at his company, he stormed off in a decidedly bad mood.

Liet was complementing Ella on the soup when there was a loud noise, similar to that of nails down a chalk board. They weren't far off: Russia stood up in a flash-pushing the table forward and the bench back, along with everyone sitting on it-and stormed out, his scarf and coat flapping from the chilly breeze the huge country caused.

"What's wrong? Why's Russia mad, Liet?" Ella looked at Toris, who seemed frozen. She poked him and he woke from his stupor with a start.

"What?" he asked.

"What's wrong with Russia?" she repeated.

Toris gulped. "Well, I'm not sure, but I've seen that look on his face before."

"Really?"

He nodded. "But only once."

"What happened?"

Toris rubbed the back of his neck and said shakily, "Well, Prussia tried to . . . get too close to Ukraine."

That right there was enough information. "Oh, that couldn't have ended well."

Toris shook his head. "No. He looked a lot like that just before he beat Prussia to the ends of the earth."

"What did that look look like?" Ella asked.

"Well, pretty much like his face looked now. It was like he wanted to torture Prussia first by-he described it to us later-running the point of a knife down every inch of his skin, letting him slowly bleed to death."

Ella thought, _Wow. Sounds like something I would do._ "I think it looked a bit different than that."

"What do you mean?" Toris asked.

"Oh, I dunno, there just seemed to be more than just revenge in his eyes. . ."

They sat in silence for a little while longer before Toris cleared his throat and turned back to the food. "Well, I don't think it's anything to worry about. He'll be ok."

"You think so?"

Toris nodded. "I know my boss: he's gonna be fine. More serious things have bothered him, I'm sure."

Ella nodded and the couple returned to their eating. Neither of them knew how completely _wrong_ Toris's last words were. While Toris and Ella were going over something about a camel stuffed with a lamb which had been stuffed with chickens which had been stuffed with fish which had been stuffed with eggs, Russia was bending back the door of his locker.

In a pure bout of anger, he'd punched the metal door and completely bent the whole thing in half. He frowned and pulled it out of his locker. The Russian bent it back into it's normal position and stuck the door back on it's hinges, storming back to his dorm.

But his anger was still not satisfied. Russia absentmindedly pounded lightly on the wall-well, lightly compared to how hard Russia could punch. He ended up tearing a hole in the wall, not noticing until he pulled out another water pipe when he retrieved his hand. He threw the pipe back into the wall and growled.

Melinda

Roman Empire looked at her foot a second longer. "Well, it seems as though your ankle is fine now," he stated finely. Melinda sighed. She had missed the past few rehearsals because of it and she was dying to get rid of those darn crutches. According to Prussia, Paris had taken up his duties as understudy and was having a fun time harassing Eyebrows.

_Poor England_, she had thought._ Always being hit on by Frenchies . . . . _She thanked him and left for her dorm. Unfortunately, there was no rehearsal today, mostly due to the fact that Austria has to supervise his piano getting retuned. Ottawa didn't see the logic in this, but she knew better to question him. The last time she had, he had smacked her across the head and told her not to question people of higher status than her. Who would've thought that he was so stuck up?

A hand reached out and grabbed hers. She didn't have much time to react. Whoever it was pulled her into a janitor's closet. They door closed behind her, giving her a moment before the lights turned on and someone's lips were up against hers. She gasped, realizing that it was Prussia.

She had tried not to think about the kissing incident last week. Melinda was afraid of the answers she'd get if she started to question this strange love triangle, so the capital made the decision to just avoid the ex-country whoever possible-a task easier said than done.

Prussia's arm was around her waist and his hand in her hair, pressing her face closer to his. As much as the Canadian would hate to admit it, she liked it. She wanted him to kiss her, and she wanted to kiss him back. But her mind wandered to England. She still liked England, and she had a feeling that he was starting to like her back.

Not to say that she didn't like Prussia as well. Although he was kind of selfish and thick headed, she liked the way he paid attention to her, made her feel special. The way he was always there. It also didn't hurt that he was incredibly good looking. Prussia stopped suddenly. "Is something wrong?" he asked, realizing that she wasn't kissing him back.

She came back to reality. She needed a lie, and quick. "It's not okay to randomly go about kissing people," she scolded.

He crossed his arms, smirking. "Then how do I make it okay?" he asked, seeing through her lie easily.

She paused for a moment, stumbling through her thoughts. "I-I don't know!"

He cupped her face with his hands, drawing his face closer to hers. "How about this: next Friday. You. Me. Date. 6 o'clock."

Ottawa's mouth dropped. Did he just seriously ask her out? Was she really getting a boyfriend? Was Ella going to kill her for this? He laughed at her shock. "You're so awesomely cute," he teased, giving her a peck on the cheek. Her face turned seven shades redder as he casually strolled out of the closet.

The capital was frozen in place. She could already tell that this was going to end badly. "Ottawa, there you are." The voice broke her from her thoughts. She realized that Britain was standing at the door of the closet, panting slightly. "What are you doing in here?" he asked.

"Oh nothing!" she said quickly. This conversation was heading to places she didn't want to go. The subject needed to be changed. "How did you find me?"

"Tinker Bell told me," he replied casually. Although it had been a week since the chat by the window, he was still his moody self. He was talking to her, acknowledging her presence, but he still didn't smile. It was progress though. "Anyways, we need to practice the dance."

Melinda raised an eyebrow. "Since when were you so interested in my dancing skills?"

"Since Roderich decided to change the choreography for it and started to consider having Paris replace you permanently."

She nodded. "Fine." He lead her down the hall and to the outside area. "Where are we going?" she asked.

"America claimed the classroom for a scene with him, Seychelles, and France. And this is the next best thing." She didn't really mind. The air outside was cooler and the leaves were turning brown, drifting down from the trees. It was really beautiful out there.

England led her to a spot by the football stadium. He had a circle of benches set-up in the some copy of the set. He threw off his blue blazer. Luckily, he was still wearing a white dress shirt under his brown school vest. If he was shirtless, the poor girl would have most likely gotten a nosebleed.

He took her hand. "Alright, this is how it starts . . ."

* * *

><p>Over an hour later, the Brit was finally satisfied. <em>Who knew he's such a sucker for perfection,<em> Melinda thought warily, feeling a bit tired. She took a seat on one of the benches. England shook his head.

"I want to see you do it one more time," he said, motioning her to stand up again. She groaned and got back onto her aching feet. "No worry, you'll thank me for this later."

He took her hand and counted to three, starting the song. They didn't have a boom box, so the were forced to just mutter the lyrics under their breaths. She turned and spun at the right times, jumped onto the benches at the perfect moments too. She did like this version better, but she couldn't understand why he kept on insisting that she did it over and over and over and over . . .

"HAHAHA! Dancing with your girlfriend old man?" An overly obnoxious voice yelled. Alfred's voice sacred Ottawa senseless, causing her to lose her footing. It didn't help that England yanked on her arm when turning to yell at him. She fell off the bench (again) and onto her partner (again). She knocked him over, and was once again in an awkward position.

Melinda was pretty much just sitting on the man's chest. Yeah, not as sexy as last time, but still awkward. "Ah! I'm sorry!" she yelled, jumping to her feet.

"I'm fine," he mumbled. "Just help me up." She pulled him to his feet, still apologizing. Alfred, however, was cracking up laughing just a few feet away.

"Oh man, THAT was awesome," he said between laughs.

England scowled. "No it wasn't," he scolded. "It was rude and inconsiderate. One of us could have been seriously hurt."

The American smiled. "You did that on your own. However . . ." He reached out and grabbed his older brother's shirt collar, pulling him closer. "If you hurt my little brother's capital, I'm going to hurt you so hard, you wish you got roundhouse kicked by Chuck Noris instead."

England looked at him confused. "Who?"

Alfred ignored him. "Got it?" he growled. The other man nodded. Happily, he released him. "Well, have fun with your girlfriend!" he called as he ran away, acting as though he just didn't threaten someone just moments earlier.

"She's not my girlfriend!" The Brit yelled. He sighed and turned to Melinda. She had stood there, silently watching, trying to figure out why her cousin would take such an interest in her. "I'm sorry about that, but you can leave now; we're done for today."

She nodded, happy to get away. Things had just gone from weird, to weirder. She knew that in the end, she'll either break one man's heart, or Ella would break their skulls. And truthfully, she didn't see how either one was good.

Natale

They were in Literature, a quite frankly, the class couldn't get any more tense. They were reading a romance novel about two guys in love with one girl, and the girl couldn't decide between which guy she loved more. *wink-wink*

As soon as the bell rang to signal that class had started, Rome had dropped into her seat and fell asleep faster than Greece could. Lovino cautioned about waking her up, so they left the Italian where she was.

It was a really stupid book, and if you added that with the fact that they had to take notes on it and everyone kept glancing at Germany, Barce, and Rome, it was a very tense atmosphere.

Ancient Greece lifted her head from her desk and called with a very loud yawn, "Students! Gather . . . into your . . . groups and . . . discuss . . . your . . . notes." Her head plopped back onto the desk with a loud thud.

It just figured that earlier that week she had paired Germany, Barce, and Rome together for their group. The two made their way to Rome's area of the classroom and took empty seats next to her.

Germany opened his mouth to state his opinion about the book (which happened to be "I think it's stupid") when Barce told him, "Sarah should end up with Patrick."

Germany couldn't help but reply, "Pfft! No way, Patrick is forcing himself onto Sarah. Noah was with her first."

"Well, along with Noah's hair problem-"

"What is that suppose to mean?"

"His hair is too neat and orderly."

Germany raised his brow; he looked at Barce's tangles of brown curls when he said, "And you want it to be messier?"

"Yes. And so what if Noah as with him first?" Barce continued. "Patrick is a lot tanner and his love for Sarah is a lot more obvious."

Germany was getting annoyed. "Love doesn't have to be obvious, you know."

"Says the emotionally constipated German."

"Well the story specifically says that Sarah hates Patrick and wants to be with Noah."

"But if you read Chapter Ten, Sarah specifically states that she hates Noah."

"That was because of a misunderstanding caused by Patrick!"

Barce banged his hands onto his desk loudly and stood. "You're just jealous of the fact that she wants to be with me!"

Germany copied his manner of standing, yelling back, "Who'd want to be with a loud mouth _arschloch_ like you?" By now, the whole class room was quiet, staring at the scene. The good news: Ancient Greece was still asleep. The bad news: Roma wasn't.

"What's going on?" she mumbled.

Barce suddenly pulled her out of her seat and into his arms. "Well why would she want to be with you?" he demanded, holding the capital closer to him. "You're nothing more than some overly serious military officer!" Germany scowled, trying to find a way to turn the tables against him. Barce immediately saw that he had his rival cornered. "You claim to love her, yet not once have you done anything to prove it. As far as I'm concerned, you're just some pervert trying to get close to my girl."

Roma blinked. Seriously, what the hell was going on?

Germany gritted his teeth together. "Why don't we just end this once and for all?" he suggested fiercely.

Barce smiled. "Fine. A week from tomorrow at the park."

Unexpectedly, Germany laughed. "Why _next_ Friday?" he asked. "Too afraid to fight me sooner?"

"No, I just figured that I'll give you a little more time to enjoy being around my girl, since I'm nice like that."

Germany frowned. Was this guy serious?

Someone else banged their hands on their desk. The room glanced at Romano, who was clearly pissed off. "No way in hell are you bastards going to be fighting over my sister!" he yelled.

Spain tapped the Italian on the shoulder. "Do you want them to keep on hitting on your sister constantly?" he whispered softly into his ear.

"Well I don't want them fighting over her like she was some sort of prize to be won!" he snapped. Spain placed a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to sit down. Reluctantly, he sat back down. Romano hated this, people always flirting with his capital. Why couldn't people just treat her better, like a human being? It just frustrated him so much.

"Well if no one else objects, can I make it a done deal?" Barce asked. The room was silent. He smiled. "Good."

Natale stood there, trying to figure out why in the world Barce was still hugging her. But more importantly: what the hell was that about?


	14. Consequences of Dating Men with Big Nose

**Chapter 14: The Consequences of Dating Men with Big Noses.**

Melinda

On 6 o'clock sharp, the was a knock on the dorm door. Melinda cursed. She wasn't ready! She had just presumed that since it was Prussia, he would be late. Can't really blame her; he did seem like the kind of guy who would be late to a date. But no, he was on time. "Coming!" she called, hastily tying off her ribbon.

After much debate, she had decided upon a short jean skirt and red shirt. For some strange reason, her hair was in low pigtails tied off by red ribbons. It looked a lot like Seychelles's hair, which was probably the reason why she she did it. She quickly unlocked the door and peeked outside. Prussia, like always, was leaning against the wall opposite to her, wearing a white dress shirt and casual jeans.

She smiled and stepped outside. "You look nice," Ottawa said timidly as she closed the door behind her.

The German didn't even hesitate. "You look beautiful Mel," he said coolly. The girl had figured that something like that was coming, but even so she still became embarrassed. The two walked off campus casually as Prussia went on about his plans for the night. He had two tickets to some horror movie at the theater already bought and reservations to some steak joint nearby. "If that's okay with you," he added suddenly.

Melinda was actually very used to horror films. Whenever Alfred came to visit her and Mathew, he'll always insist on watching some ghost themed chiller. After the opening credits, he always broke down crying, but she had found them fascinating. "I'm okay with it Prussia," she said.

He scowled. "Why is it that even though I call you by your human name, you don't call me by mine?" he asked, soundly slightly pissed off. "Is it not awesome enough for you?"

She shrugged. "No I just figured that you thought your name too awesome for anyone to use."

Prussia opened his mouth as if to reply, but then closed it again. He crossed his arms, saying, "Just call me Gilbert for now on."

Ottawa giggled. "Okay. . . _Gil_."

"Don't call me Gil; it's un-awesome."

"Don't call me Mel; it's un-awesome."

Ella

Russia peeked around the corner. After a long night of tossing, turning, and even more holes in the walls, he'd decided to confront Ella about Lithuania.

But the Russian never thought actually carrying out the deed would have been so damn hard. It had taken him nearly an hour to open his door, another hour to stare out at the hallway, silently swearing at his muscles to get them to work again, and who knew how long it had taken him to attempt to find a suitable topic to think about to distract him from the task at hand.

NO, he was definitely NOT afraid, pft! What reason would _Russia _have to be afraid of? Sure, she could reject him and scream at him and tell him that she never wanted to see him again and . . . and . . . Well, she could actually confirm his suspicions. Yeah, that would be the worst: tell him that she actually _did_ like Lithuania and that she really was just afraid of him . . .

Russia looked at Ella: she was retrieving a book out of her locker so she could head back to her dorm and start her homework. Mustering up what ever courage he had, Russia gulped and turned the corner, walking towards Ella. He was doing fine until she looked at him and called out his name: "Hey Russia!"

He froze and forgot everything he had planned to ask her. She walked up to him and smiled. "I've been meaning to talk to you." she asked.

Russia gulped. "I have too."

"Yeah, well, I'd like to ask what was wrong yesterday. Why did you storm out of the cafeteria at lunch?"

"I wanna-wait, what?" The little Hispanic's last statement had thrown Russia off.

"What happened at lunch yesterday that made you so mad?" She was looking up at him with her big green eyes. Russia could help but think about how the sunlight from the windows made them sparkle . . .

"Oh, um, uh. . ." Russia hurriedly searched for something to say. He blurted out, "Why were you sitting with Lithuania yesterday?"

"What?" Ella asked.

"Yeah, and you two were eating together too." Russia went on and on about her and Lithuania-until he noticed the look she was giving him. It was somewhere between a smirk, a smile, and that look people get when they've found out a really dark, dirty secret. Russia stopped in the middle of his blabbing rant.

"Russia?" Ella said. She sounded like she was going to tease him about something. "Are you jealous?"

The word hit Russia like a ton of bricks (not saying that a ton of bricks would have any effect on Russia in the first place). Jealous. Jealous? Was he _jealous_? Jealous of _Lithuania_, the henchman that was under him in both physical and social status?

Russia did the only thing he could think of-which just happened to be kinda romantic: he grabbed Ella's shoulders and kissed her cheek before running back down the hall the way he had come. Ella blinked, but then chased after the man. "_Espere_!" she yelled, running up to him. He paused for a second, turning around to see what it was. It was just an instant, but it was enough.

Standing on her tippy-toes, she kissed him full on the lips. The man was shocked for a second. _How can she be so open about this?_ he wondered. Even so, he put his arms around her and kissed her back. Their lips lingered for a second, before Ella opened her mouth ever so slightly. Russia took the opportunity, pushing his tongue into her mouth. She allowed him, returning the favor. Neither thought that it was odd to be French kissing when they were just arguing moments earlier.

They were like that for a few minutes, just enjoying each other's touch, each other's feel. When they finally stopped, Russia bent to Ella's height and hugged her tightly, afraid to let her go. "Я люблю тебя," he whispered, holding her tighter.

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"I love you." He kissed her again, but this time softer. They were entrapped in their own little world, one that only included them and nothing else. When they finally came to, Ivan smiled and took her hand. "I have something I want to show you," he said, leading her down the hall.

Ella's face was crimson. "Me too," she said, thinking about her family heirloom. "Can I go to my dorm to get it?"

Russia nodded, kissing her on the check. "Meet me at the park."

Releasing his hand, the capital dashed to her room. Back when she was a little girl, Spain had given her a necklace. "_Chiquita_," he had said, "when the time comes, you must give this to the man that you love." Ella knew that she'd asked him why, but she didn't remember the reason.

She knew that it was a childish thing to do, but she felt as though it would be worth while. Coming upon her room, she opened the locked door and raced to her jewelry box without even turning the lights on. She was so excited, so happy. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts, that she didn't realize that someone was in the room, until . . .

"Hello Ella," a voice greeted. Ella froze, and slowly turned around. Her blood had run cold at the sound, but the sight made it freeze over. In Melinda's hammock was Belarus, idly toying with her knife.

_Of course the crazy sister would be here,_ she thought angrily. "What do you want?" she snarled, griping the necklace in one hand and her pipe in the other.

"Oh nothing, it's just that I saw you sucking face with my husband," she replied coolly. She jumped down from her spot, landing a few feet away from the other girl. "Didn't I tell you to stay away?"

Ella raised her pipe up defensively. "I can easily beat you." Without warning, Belarus came at her with the knife. Ella moved to the side, avoid the knife by an inch. She turned on her heel, ready to hit the attacker in the back, when something was shoved into her stomach. She gasped and collapsed-Belarus had jammed the hilt of the knife into her.

It hurt, a lot. Ella was a good fighter, so good that most of the time her opponents couldn't land a scratch on her. However that one little detail made her a little shocked at the pain. She had forgotten how much a hit to the stomach could hurt.

Belarus started to walk away. "Like I said, stay away from my husband," Belarus said again.

Ella grimaced. "I'm not afraid of you," she gasped. Damn, it still hurt.

Belarus turned suddenly. Expecting another attack, she moved into defensive position. But instead, she threw a white envelope at her. "I know you're not," she said, motioning for Ella to open it. Hesitantly, she ripped it open and peeked inside. "But I know who is."

Ella didn't let her shock over come her. Inside the envelope was a lock of her Canadian's hair. "When did you get this?" she asked.

Belarus shrugged. "You should be asking how I got into this room."

Ella paused for a second. She had presumed that she came through the door, but the door was locked. "Damn you," she growled.

Belarus was halfway through the door before she turned around and said, "You know, you can't be around all the time to protect them, you're Canadian or your Italian. In fact, there's a little rumor about that says that someone already got to one of them. I suggest that if don't want that rumor coming true, you'll stay away from Ivan."

Mexico City watched as she left. She hated this! Russia or her friend's safety? Damn it, where were they anyways? For all she knew, one of them was in trouble right now.

She looked down at her necklace. It depicted a golden Aztec sun, with a long leather strap. She timidly turned it in her hands and looked at the inscription on the back "_Dar esta solamente a la elección de su corazón. __Y con este premio, que puede devolver el favor. siempre y para siempre_." She took a deep breath and ran out of her room. She had one shot at this. She ran as fast as she could to the park. Ella could feel her heart pounding when she saw Russia standing there, waiting for her.

"Ella-" he started, but didn't finish. She ran into his chest with a thud. It wasn't like her to be so careless like that. "What's wrong?" he asked, eyes wide with concern.

The capital shoved something into his hands. "Keep it safe," she said, slightly trembling. "Keep it with you always."

"Ella, what's wr-" But she dashed away again before he knew it. What in the world? He looked down at the item. It was a necklace, a beautiful one at that. He turned it in his hands and saw the inscription. What did it mean? he wondered. Russia frowned.

Was it just him, or had Ella been crying?

Melinda

The capital sat frozen in her seat, eyes wide with shock as she stared at the movie screen. This horror film, it was scary, scarier than anything Alfred had ever brought. And the gore factor was tremendous! Currently, some poor fellow was getting his spinal cord ripped out by the monster. Gross. Prussia had long ago done the standard "arm around the girl" move, but didn't go much further than that. He had a feeling that Melinda was going to faint.

"You okay?" he whispered, leaning into her ear.

Ottawa gulped. "No," she replied. The monster was now peeling away his victim's skin. That was too much. Her stomach lunged and she felt her lunch rise to her throat. "I think I'm going to barf." She quickly got up and ran out of the theater and to the nearest bathroom.

She leaned over a sink, letting the lunch monkey fly. She felt awful. There was a knock on the door. "Hey Mel! You alright?" It was Prussia. Amazingly, he had enough decency not to enter the woman's bathroom.

She gulped. "I'm fine Gilbert, just wait out there." Melinda felt a few move dry heaves before her stomach finally settled. A toilet flushed as she began to wash her mouth out. This was bad, barfing on your first date. She splashed some water into her face and looked up.

Reflecting in the mirror behind her was Belarus, not looking very happy. The girl's hands clenched in fear. _Be like Ella_, she told herself. _Don't show any fear._

"Hello Belarus," she said pleasantly. Pleasantly, but unsteady. "I didn't know that you were going to the movies today." An idea occurred to her. "Did you come with your brother?"

The ends of the other girl's lips curled. "Oh no. Ivan's busy making out with you're friend," she replied in an equally pleasant manner.

Melinda gulped. Something was definitely wrong-Belarus was never this nice to her. She gave a small smile. "I'm sorry to here that." She quickly wiped her hands with a paper towel. "Well I have a date outside and I really must-"

Belarus grabbed her arm and pressed a switch blade to her throat. "You're not going anywhere," she growled. Her nails dug painfully into the capital's skin. "I told your fried to stay away from my brother or else this was going to happen and you want to know something? She still came running into his arms at the first chance she got."

Ottawa tried to scowl, but instead made a cross between a pout and a whimper. "She wouldn't do that," she whispered.

"But she did."

There was another knock on the door. "Are you alright?" Gilbert asked again. Belarus held her tighter, telling Melinda to not reveal anything.

"I-I'm fine!" she stuttered in reply, hoping that her date couldn't find the distress in her voice.

"Tell him to go away," her captor hissed.

Melinda knew quite well that once Prussia was gone, she was only going to get hurt, but she didn't have much of a choice. If she disobeyed the girl right now, she could guarantee her throat getting slit. But if she just went along with Belarus's lane, then maybe she might walk away with internal bleeding. "Can you get me some ice cream?" she called to Prussia. "I think I saw a vendor down the street."

"I'll make sure it's awesome!" Gilbert exclaimed happily, unaware of his date's peril. The two girls listened intently at the sound of him running down the halls, away from the bathroom.

Melinda exhaled. She hadn't realized that she had been holding her breath. There was a sharp, sudden pain in the back of her head. Her knees buckled and her consciousness faded. "This is just the beginning," she heard Belarus taunt just before the world around her went black.

Natale

Rome huddled in her jacket and dark blue scarf as she stood by the bleachers of the football field. It was a cool night, too cool for her liking. But the weather couldn't change the fact that her two suitors were going to brawl tonight. Besides the two boys, it was just her, Romano, Italy, Spain, and Alfred who was in the top row of the bleachers video recording the fight.

"You guys don't have to do this," she said for the twentieth time, taking a few steps forward. Romano quickly pulled her back, insisting that she stayed by him. For some odd reason, he held her hand tightly, even though Feli need it more: he was right by his German friend, crying as he tried to convince him to accept his white flag.

"I'm not backing down," Germany replied as he pulled on his pair of black leather gloves. For some reason, he thought it fit to wear his World War II uniform.

"You should," Barce spat in reply. He was wearing the Spanish military uniform of a tan jacket and trousers.

_Do they think this a war? _Rome wondered.

The two men finally faced each other, moving into a fighting stance. All was silent as they faced each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. Barce made a yell as he came running up to Ludwig, fist raised. Germany easily dodged it, moving to the side. Although Barce's moves were predictable, he was faster than his German enemy.

Before Germany could retaliate with a punch of his own, Barce turned around and came at him again. He swore and held up a fist, catching Barce's punch easily in his grip. He tossed the man through the air and planted him flat onto the ground. He punched his face over and over again, grunting some German insults.

Barce suddenly shot his hand up, his two fingers digging into Germany's eyes. The man yelled and quickly covered his eyes. Barce kicked him off and reversed positions. He punched Germany with all of his strength.

Loviono suddenly clenched Rome's hand harder. "End this Spain," he growled. The taller man looked at him. "End it _now_."

Spain nodded and twirled his axe in his hand. "Anything for you, Lovi~" The Spaniard dashed up to the battle and swung his weapon down; the blade barely missed Germany's face. Spain, using the long handle as his leverage, swung around and knocked Barce off. He planted his boot into the blond's face and pulled the axe out of the ground.

He pointed it straight at his city, glaring daggers at him. Barce knew quite well that if it involved Romano, Spain would be heartless. He raised his hands up in surrender. The country nodded and looked down at Germany. The poor guy was out cold. By default, Spain had won.

"Dude! That was amazing!" America yelled from the bleachers.

Spain smiled as he walked off the field. "Anything for my little Lovi~!" he squealed as he tried to hug him.

"Get off me you damn tomato bastard!"

Alfred came jumping down the bleachers. "Doesn't that mean that Antonio now has to take Natale on a date?"

The Italians (minus Feli) yelled out their objections. "No way in hell is that pedo dating my little sister!" Romano yelled.

Rome tried to find a reason of her own to argue with. Truthfully, she wouldn't mind it. Hey, a hot guy is a hot guy.

"Natale!" someone yelled in the distance. The capital looked up and saw-

"Ella?" she gasped. This was very unexpected. Her friend seemed to be in a state of panic. In all of her years knowing her, she had never seen the Mexican in such a state. "What's wrong?"

Ella ran over Germany and grabbed Natale's shoulders. "Are you okay?" she yelled, shaking her back and forth.

Between shakes, she gasped. "Yes-I'm-fine-stop-shaking-me!"

She released her. "Where's Melinda?"

"On her date with Prussia. What's wrong?"

The girl seemed to be angered by the memory of it. "Belarus said that she was going to kidnap one of you if I . . ." she trailed off. The German National Anthem had started to play. Italy, who had been trying to shake Germany awake, pulled a black cell phone out of Germany's pocket.

"Vee~!" he said. "The caller ID says that it's Prussia."

Ella snatched the phone from up and answered it.

"Hey West!" Prussia was saying. "Guess what? My date just ditched me!"

"Melinda ditched you?" Ella asked, suddenly looking very concerned.

"Wait you're not West-"

"Of course not you idiot. Just tell me what happened."

Prussia relayed the events of the night to her, using the word awesome every now and then. "And of course, when I came back, she wasn't there anymore." he finished. Ella snapped the phone shut.

A dark cloud seemed to float over her head. The girl trembled slightly, try get a hold on her flying emotions. "Natale," she whispered. It was so soft that the Italian could barely hear her. "Some one just stole our Canadian."

Natale swore in Italian. "It's always the Canadians," she complained.


	15. Saving the Canadian

**Chapter 15: Saving the Canadian**

Germany groaned and sat up, finally conscious. What happened? Wasn't he fighting Barce when. . .

Remembering the previous events, he became completely awake and looked around. What he expected to see was Spain rejoicing over the fact that he won. What he saw, however, was Alfred, Barce, Spain, Romano, Italy, Natale, and Ella all standing in a circle, arguing about something. Stiffly, he got to his feet and walked over to the group.

"Well you were the one who started it!" Alfred was yelling.

Romano simply spat, "Well you damn Americans shouldn't get involved!"

Both Natale and Italy were cringing at the two. "Guys!" she exclaimed. "We don't have time to argue right now!"

"We're not arguing!" the two yelled in unison.

"Actually you guys are arguing about arguing," Spain stated slyly with a smile.

Germany had enough. Harshly, he pushed the two aside, yelling, "What's going on here?" Everyone looked at him. Automatically, Italy hugged him, saying that he was happy about him being alive.

"You wanna know what's going on here?" Ella growled. The air around her was black and haunting. For their own personal safety, everyone took a step back. "Melinda's been kidnapped by a psychopathic Belarus and all THEY can do to help is argue!"

Germany was speechless. He truthfully didn't see that one coming. The group was silent as they considered their choices. None of them knew where the girl was, nor where they should start.

"What are you wankers doing out here so late?" Everyone seemed to silently groan as England came striding across the field. "It's five minutes past curfew."

Alfred was suddenly in front of him. He grabbed his older brother's shoulders and started to shake him fiercely. "We can't worry about that now!" he yelled. "There is a missing Canadian out there!"

"Mattie's missing?" the other gasped.

Alfred nearly died. "No! You're girlfriend!"

England looked at him blankly. The Brit was not amused. "She's not my girlfriend," he stated plainly. He pushed the country away. "However, I think I may be able to help you with that." From his back pocket, he pulled out a beaten looking leather book and a box of white chalk. He opened it to a predetermined page. "Now in order for this to work, I will need a piece of her, like blood."

Ella took out a white envelop. "Will hair do?"

The Brit snatched it from her hands and looked inside. "Yeah there's enough, but where did you get this?"

"Belarus had it."

He didn't reply. Instead he just drew a complicated looking circle on the grass. "Alright everyone step back." He picked up his book and started to chant. "Santo Rita Meata Mater Ringo Jonah Tito Marlon Jack La Toya Janet Michael Dumbledora the Explorer . . . Santo Rita Meata Mater Ringo Jonah Tito Marlon Jack La Toya Janet Michael Dumbledora the Explorer . . . Santo Rita Meata Mater Ringo Jonah Tito Marlon Jack La Toya Janet Michael Dumbledora the Explorer. I summoned you from the depths of hell! Show yourself!"

The circle lit up and there was a flash. Everyone quickly covered their eyes, just to reveal. . .

"You kol'd?"

England looked shock for a second.

"I wasn't calling you!" he yelled, trying to push Russia's head back into the ground-to no avail.

"Da, yes you did," the other retorted. Russia's eyes suddenly lay on Ella. "Ella, what was that all about earlier?" he asked (referring to when she shoved her necklace into his hands).

The girl wanted to break down crying. She wanted to beg for forgiveness, ask him to kiss her again. But Melinda was more important. "Just go away!" she snapped. "I need to find Melinda!"

"I can help!" he said, pulling an arm out of the ground. "Just let me see some of her blood, da?"

England tossed him the envelope. "You'll just have to do with hair Ivan."

The Russian gazed at the locks, observing them carefully. "She's in the boy's dorms," he said after several long minutes. "Room 813 to be exact."

"That's my room!" Spain exclaimed.

Barce placed a hand on his chin. "Don't you share a room with Prussia and France?" he asked, using his brain for once.

"So that either means that Prussia lied to us and he's with Melinda still or France is . . ." Natale trailed off.

"THAT RAPIST!" Ella screamed, running off to the boys dorm. Everyone except Russia followed. Within a few minutes, Ella was outside their door. She took a breath and kicked the door down with a crash.

The room's occupants were shocked at the sudden commotion, unable to do anything as the she-devil stormed into the room and grabbed the collar of the first person she saw: Prussia. "Where is she?" she demanded, slamming her victim into the nearest wall. "Where is Ottawa?"

Prussia gasped, trying to push her away. The two were equal in strength, making holding him, and escaping from her, very difficult. "I don't know!" he yelled. "She ditched me on our date!" Suddenly, an un-awesome thought occurred to him. "Why?" he asked. "Did something happen to her?"

Ella ignored him. She released the man and grabbed her next victim: France. "Where is she, pervert, I know she's here!"

"What are you talking about?" France demanded, eyes red from crying. "I was in here all night!"

"Doing what?"

"Trying to figure out what happened to my missing lock of hair!"

Ella released him, confused. "What do you mean by that?" She asked, starting to think forbidden thoughts.

Francis pointed to an uneven section of his hair. "I woke up this moring with a lock of my _belle_ hair missing!" he complained. "And now I can't even go out in public without people mocking me for my ridiculous hair."

"I highly doubt that people are going to notice that," Germany muttered, watching the scene unfold from afar with the rest of the search party.

Although Ella wasn't snarling insults like she normally did, everyone could tell that she was in a pissed off state. _Am I really that stupid?_ she wondered. That forbidden thought from earlier was suddenly proven true. _I'm such an idiot! The hair was never Melinda's in the first place! Belarus had just taken a lock of France's hair._ Their hair was so similar that Ella had just presumed that it was her little Canadian's.

She groaned and buried her face in her hands. In a low growl, she explained her mistake.

"Even so, Melinda's still missing," Natale pointed out.

"How are we ever going to figure out where she is now?" Ella asked, feeling hopelessness set in.

"Actually, I may have an idea." The girl glanced up to England, who seemed to still be stuck in his never-ending scowl. "Ottawa said something to me about Alaska having stalked Canada in the past."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

Alfred caught on first. "Alaska has a Canadian tracker!" he exclaimed. "That was how she was able to always find Matthew!"

Mexico city didn't wast any time. "Alright, let's go get her."

England quickly stepped in front of her. "I can't let you do that Ella."

"Why?"

"Because Alaska takes to being like Russia a lot and she just woul-" He fell over unconscious, a pipe having been slugged efficiently into his skull.

Ella lazily swung her weapon in her hands. "Whatever. Soviets don't scare me." She started to stride away as Alfred, Barce, and Spain were forced to carry England back to the clinic. Prussia announced that his awesomeness was needed with her. "Why?" she asked, glaring at him.

"Because Mel is my awesome girlfriend." The capital was forced to grumble an agreement. This better not backfire on her. The group made their way to the state's dorm in an eerie silence. Or as silent as anyone could get when Italy and Romano were arguing about Ludwig.

"Will you two shut up?" Ella hissed as Rome knocked on the door.

There was a crash as a deep voiced woman yelled "Coming!" before the door finally opened. Standing before them was what could only be described as a female version of Russia. She wasn't as tall as him, but the height was still looming. She did, however, have this wavy hair similar to Canada's. She gave a childish smile. "Hey there, what's up?" she said, sounding very American.

"Alaska, my name is Ella-" said capital didn't get a chance to finish. Rome had made her signature "WAA~!" sound before glomping the state efficiently.

Alaska didn't even stumble under the weight. She merely just stroke the Italian's hair, cooing to her softly. Feli was quick to follow. "Aw, what's the matter with you two?" Alaska asked, now stroking the other Italian's hair. Their was a muffled sound of Prussia and Germany restraining and gaging Romano so that he didn't ruin the scene.

Roma sniffled. "A meanie country is hurting our friend and-and-" She suddenly broke back into tears.

The state hugged her tighter. "Is there anything I can do to help?" she asked.

In her mind, Ella was cracking up laughing. Who knew that Natale's Italian traits would come in handy?

"I don't think so," Natale cried. "I-just don't want Ottawa to die~!" She cried harder and buried her face in Alaska's shirt.

"Ottawa, you mean Matthew's little sis?"

Rome nodded. Alaska stood in thought for a second. Gently, she pried the two siblings off of her. "I might just have the thing," she said, walking back into her room. Alaska bent down to her bed and grabbed an item from under her pillow. "This is my precious Canadian tracker," she said, handing it to Natale. "You can track you're friend with this. Be careful with it."

The capital hugged the state again, giving her a thousand thanks. The girl had to pry the other off and urge her to find her friend before the group was finally alone again. "Alright so how do we use this?" Barce asked as they walked out of the dorm area.

"I don't know," Germany replied, snatching the tracker from him. "But if it's anything like my Prussia tracker-"

"You have a tracker for me?" The other brother demanded.

Ludwig scowled. "Yeah since you're such an idiot." The tracker made a beeping noise as the blond turned it on. The screen displayed a list of Canadians to choose from. "Let's see," he muttered, scrolling down the page. "Ontario, Quebec, Prince Edward Island, Ottawa!" He selected the option. The screen changed to a Google map (TM) of World Academy. Over one of the buildings was a red dot. "According to this, Ottawa is at the Wood Shop room."

He paused as he saw everyone else run in the direction. He cursed in German before running after them. Couldn't they have a little courtesy and wait for him?

"Are you sure she's in here?" Ella asked when they came upon the door of the classroom.

"Yeah," the German replied. "Why so doubting?"

"I'm not doubting," she grumbled. "I just don't want to break down another door without a good enough reason." Without another word, she suddenly got ready to kick the door down, getting into stance . . .

"Vee~! It's open~!" Italy cooed, opening the door by it's door knob.

Ella cursed and hastily lowered her leg. "You idiot!" she yelled. "I could have kicked you!" It was no lie; Her leg had just been inches from his face.

Putting that aside, Ella pushed the Italian aside and walked purposely into the dark room. It was pitch black in there, so dark, that she couldn't see her hand in front of her face. Everyone else was quick to follow. It wasn't necessarily silent in there: both Italy and Rome were whimpering as they trembled in fear. There was a slight noise, too soft for most of them to notice. Ella paused. "Quiet you two!" she hissed, raising her pipe in defense. She knew that something was there and she had idea if it was friend or foe.

The noise was there again, but disappeared as quickly as the first time. A few seconds later, it was there again. "Damnit! Would someone turn the damn lights on!" Romano hissed, scared out of his wits-not that he would ever tell anyone.

Prussia moved softly as he inched back to the door, hand searching the wall for the switch. He made an "Ah!" sound before turning the switch itself. A few seconds later, the lights flickered on. Everyone squinted for a second at the sudden brightness, but soon enough, they were welcomed to a semi-thankful sight.

Melinda was laying on one of the work benches, in a fitful sleep. The mysterious noise from before had been her uneven breaths coming hoarsely from her mouth. But that was the only good news. The capital was covered in bruises, some purple, others green and yellow. All the fingers in one hand were bent at odd angles, all obviously broken. At various parts of her body there were deep cuts, no doubt from Belarus's knives.

Rome gasped before running up to her, yelling, "Melinda~!" She began to shake the girl back and forth, begging her to wake up.

Prussia swore and ran up to her, smacking the Italian. "You idiot! You're just hurting her!"

Germany scowled and smacked Prussia. "Don't hurt her!" he snapped.

Italy joined Rome at the Canadian's side, poking her in the face. "Please wake-up," he begged, crying a little bit. The girl didn't stir.

Romano smacked the two behind their heads. "You damn idiots!" he scolded. "You're just hurting her!"

"Would everyone just calm down!" The room paused as Ella looked ten times angrier than they thought humanly possible. "Germany, Prussia, take Melinda to Roman Empire. Romano, keep Italy and Rome calm."

"What about you Mexi?" Rome asked, whimpering slightly.

The girl lifted her pipe onto her shoulder. "I'm getting some sweet revenge."

The Nurse's Office

When Melinda opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was white. Endless white. It hurt her eyes greatly. She snapped them shut and groaned. What had happened? She couldn't even remember the last thing she had done. "Am I dead?" she muttered to no one in particular.

"Only un-awesome people die," a man's voice said somewhere in the distance, or maybe he was close by. She couldn't tell.

She groaned and turned a bit, realizing for the first time that she was laying down. "Then are you God?"

The voice didn't even hesitate. "Well I am awesome enough to be God."

Wait-the constant use of "awesome"? The capital suddenly knew who she was talking to. She slowly opened her eyes, the white no longer being so intense. Bending down over her was Prussia, his face covered with a large grin. The source of the white was the overly bright florescent light fixtures. "Gilbert?" she asked softly.

"The one and only." He turned around and yelled for Roman Empire to come over. "Give him a minute," he said. "He's a bit busy with the drunk."

Without thinking much, she turned her head to the other side. In a bed similar to hers was an unconscious England, breathing steadily as Grandpa Rome examined a head injury. In that moment, the capital's memories started to trickle slowly to her. She had been on a date with Prussia . . . then she was barfing . . . Belarus was there . . . The capital starting unconsciously crying, tears starting to spill from her eyes. "Hey, what's wrong?" the man asked, placing a finger on her cheek to catch a tear.

Ottawa stumbled over her words for a few seconds. "Belarus . . . and Ella . . . and and and-" Someone grabbed her shoulders and pressed her back into her bed. She was hyperventilating, caught in some state of panic. Her ears didn't work-Prussia was saying something, but she couldn't hear. Grandpa Rome was placing a mask over her mouth, telling the girl to breath normally, before calling to Italy to get the anesthesia. Staring from a corner was Natale, just staring as Romano placed a comforting arm around her shoulders.

A needle was pressed into the patient's arm as Grandpa Rome hushed her, telling her that everything would be alright. She felt her consciousness leave her as she started to beg for Canada, crying for her brother to help her. Suddenly she was out cold.

Roman Empire sighed and sat back in his rolly chair. "Well, didn't see that one coming," he said, laughing ever so slightly.

"Damn old man! Is laughing the only thing you can do?" Romano snapped as Rome buried her face into his chest.

"No one can do much for her now. I say the best thing for her right now is for Matthew to be the first person for her to see when she wakes up again."

"What?" Prussia demanded. "You saying that I'm not awesome enough?"

The nurse sighed. "No I'm saying that it the best plan right now."

"Yeah. And truthfully I would hate to wake to see you by my bed," A new voice said. Prussia turned to see a now conscience England sitting up right in his bed, clutching his head wound. The country didn't even give Prussia a chance to answer. "Where's Alfred?" he asked, addressing Grandpa Rome.

"He went to grab Canada." he replied casually. "And Ella is getting her revenge."

England whistled. "That can't end well."

Ella

The capital banged her fist loudly against the dorm door. She was going to find Belarus, even if it meant resulting to this. The door opened to reveal Russia, wearing his night clothes of brown slacks, but with a white T-shirt this time. He blinked when he saw her, but then smiled. "Da, Ella, what's been going on?" he asked, motioning her to come in. The girl didn't budge. He sighed and pulled her into a tight embrace. "Come on, you can tell me."

Ella placed a hand on his cheek. "Ivan I need you to . . ." She trailed off as he kissed her cheek softly. He moved in to kiss her lips when he suddenly paused. It was silent for a second before he roughly pushed her into the opposite wall, taking a step back into his room.

A blur of blue shot right down where the two used to be standing-they had barely dodged it. Ella recognized it and pulled her pipe. She was right! The minute she went to Russia, she knew that she'd find Belarus.

"Natalia! What are you doing?" Russia exclaimed, his hand shooting into the wall, making another hole and pulling out another pipe. Hey, he's Russia: he can do that. He made a move to attack, but paused when Ella shot him a look.

"Ivan stay back," she ordered. "This fight is mine." The Russian grit his teeth. No one ever ordered him around! Even if that person was the cutest capital ever. But he truthfully didn't want to make her an enemy. He reluctantly stepped back.

Ella stepped out into the hall and faced her opponent. Belarus looked a little more than slightly crazy, laughing slightly as she held up her knives, readying herself for attack. "You went near my husband," she hissed.

Ella smirked and moved herself into a defensive stance. "You hurt my Canadian," she replied evenly. Without another word, she made the first move. The capital dashed up to Belarus, making it seem like she was going to hit her with the pipe. The girl saw it coming and raised one knife in defense and another in attack. At the last possible second, Ella ducked to the ground. She went under Belarus and came back quickly on her feet, raising her pipe to strike her back.

Belarus was shocked at this sudden maneuver, but nonetheless moved to the side before she got hit. She spun around as gave Ella a good swipe at the face. She hit her mark nicely, giving the capital a sweet gash on her cheek. Ella bit her lip and moved back into defense, waiting for the other to make her move.

Belarus also stopped and moved back into her offensive stance, waiting for the other. They stood in silence for a few seconds, panting slightly. The country hadn't expected her opponent to be able to put up such a good fight. Mexico city didn't expect Belarus to be able to keep a clear head in her state of anger.

The two glared at each other for a second longer, before both of them made a mad dash right at each other. Russia watched them in shock-this was not going to end well. Just feet away from Ella, Belarus jumped into the air, ready to come down onto her opponent with her knife. The Mexican saw this and knelt onto one knee, sticking her pipe into the air.

With her own momentum, Belarus's stomach went straight into the pipe. Ella held the pipe steady as she used it to push Belarus into the wall. She hit it with a thud, gasping for air. Although the country was at her mercy, Ella couldn't help herself but to sock Belarus in the face a few times.

"Stay away from my idiots!" she yelled, pushing her down to the ground. Belarus spat at her feet, but nonetheless scurried away. Mexico City smiled in triumph. Revenge is sweet!

"Da, what was that about?" Russia asked finally, stepping back out to the hall. Ella smiled and told him the events of the day. He shook his head. "Natalia isn't one to give up easily. She will not leave you alone so quickly."

"Then I'll fight her as many times as I need to," she replied simply.

"No you don't." Russia placed a hand on her shoulder. "Perhaps we need to keep 'us' quiet for a little bit, until we can figure out what to do."

Ella scowled. "No! I'm fine! There's no way that I'll give in so easily! After all this time, don't you-"

Russia cupped her face with his hands. "Da! Of course I do! But how many times can you go off on search-and-rescue missions? And what if you don't succeed? And what about when Belarus finally gets serious and decides to actually do some real damage? What will you do then?" She was silent, thinking over his words, knowing that he was right. The man took her hand and pressed it against his chest. From under his shirt, Ella could feel the shape of the necklace that she had given him. "Just trust me when I say this. I love you, but you need to think about the safety of your friends. Da?"

The girl looked down. "Da," she whispered sadly.

He smiled and kissed her forehead. "Now shouldn't you go see how your friend is doing?"

"Yeah I probably should," she whispered, trying her best not to sound sad. Ella walked away, only letting go of his hand till the last possible second. Ivan was left there to stare at the girl as she walked away.

Natale

"She seems to be doing fine now," Spain noted as the sound of Canada and Ottawa came softly from the other side of the curtain. Due to the girl's panic, Roman Empire had curtained off the area and was only letting Matthew and the other Canadians in there.

Natale nodded. "Vee~! She does sound a lot better now." she noted. Only minutes earlier had the sounds of her friend filled the air. "Perhaps Grandpa Rome will let us in soon."

Barce took the capital's hand. "A glimpse of your radiant smile will surely have her back on her feet in no time."

She shot her hand away as Germany gave him a deadly glare. "Stay away from her," he growled.

"I don't have to."

"Yes you do."

"Actually, you do." Barce shot Spain a glare. Spain continued, ignoring the stare from his brother. "Since I won the fight, Rome is mine, so neither of you are allowed near her."

"What?" The two men jumped from their seats, ready to strangle Spain. The Spanish country was in luck: he had England's bed separating him from his attackers.

"Stop it you bloody wankers!" England yelled as America cracked up laughing.

"That's enough!" Roman Empire bellowed. Everyone paused and looked at the pissed off nurse. "I know that you all want my cute little granddaughter for yourselves, but not in the clinic." He grabbed his granddaughter's arm and pulled her away. "Natale, I need to talk to you."

He dragged her into his office before she could object. Surprisingly, Romano and Italy were already in there, both having taken seats on his desk. Rome jumped onto the spot next to Romano, leaning into him slightly. Her older brother looked uncomfortable for a second, but didn't say anything.

Their grandfather closed the door behind him and sighed. "Feliciano, Natale, your bosses want you two to spend November back in Italy."

Italy and Rome dropped their mouths as Romano scowled. "Damn old man! Why now?" he yelled.

"I don't know," he replied steadily. "It was just an order from your Boss."

Rome thought this over. If she left, then that meant that she wouldn't see her friends for a whole month! She tried to muster an excuse, a reason not to go, as Italy grew excited, squealing happily about seeing his homeland again.

"When are we leaving?" she asked, trying to be heard over her overly excited brother.

"The first of November, so you can spend Halloween with your friends."

She nodded. "Yes, Nono."

Reluctantly, the family left the office. Immediately, Italy spilled the news, causing a mixture of reactions. Natale looked around and saw Ella walking into the room. She ran up and hugged her. "Ella I don't wanna leave~!" she cried.

The other girl nodded. "I know. This night just sucks," she comforted.

"Did you find Belarus?' she asked.

Ella grinned. "Yeah and she got a nice ass-whooping!" She failed to mention her talk with Russia, but that could wait.

There was a soft tap on her shoulder. Ella released Natale and turned around. Behind was Canada, looking worn out and tired. "Mel said that she would like to talk to you two," he whispered softly.

The two girls didn't even thank him. They simply marched through the crowd in the room and to the other side of the curtain. There were two other Canadians in there, two boys. They left when they saw them, leaving the trio alone.

"Vee~! How are you feeling?" Rome asked, taking a seat right next to the girl.

Melinda didn't look well. Her bruises looked ten times worse as the white bandages covering her stitches created a sharp contrast. Her left hand was covered by a giant cast. Since she was a capital, she'd probably be fully recovered in a month, but her fingers were going to hurt for a few more months. Even so, she smiled. "It hurts all over," she said weakly.

Ella ruffled her hair. "No worry. Belarus got a beating to remember," she said happily.

Melinda frowned. "I'm sorry that you had to go through so much trouble."

"Why are you apologizing? You just got beat to a pulp because of a psychopathic she-devil!"

"Yeah I have to agree with her," Rome noted. "You look worse than a pile of shit."

Melinda laughed, just to gasp in pain. "Ow, it hurts to laugh," she said. The very thought only made her laugh harder. Her two friends smiled and chuckled softly. They couldn't see the humor in that either. When she finally got ahold of herself, Melinda smiled and looked out the dark window wistfully. "You know, this is probably the first time my family was ever very concerned about me." The two gave her a puzzled look. "The country of Canada is made of several provinces, each with their own capital," she explained. "But because I am the capital of Canada, Matthew of course paid the most attention to me. So whenever I'm alone with them, they always find a way to make fun of me."

Natale banged her head on the bed. "Stop with the character development!" she whined into the sheets. "It's giving me a headache!"

All of them laughed. Around an hour later, Grandpa Rome came in and herded the two out, saying that it was already midnight and that they had to go. The two waved and said their goodbyes as he turned off the lights and retired to his office. Melinda lay there in the dark, thinking random thoughts.

"Hey Britain," she whispered, afraid that he was already asleep. There was a "mmhh" sound. "I just want to day thank you for helping Ella and Natale."

"I'm a gentleman," he replied evenly. "What else was I suppose to do?"

"Ignore them."

He was silent for a second. "Good night Ottawa," he whispered finally.

She sighed and snuggled deeper into her blankets. "Good night England."


	16. The Boys' Discussion Chapter

**Chapter 16: In which the Boys Have the whole Chapter to Discuss their Feelings**

_Prussia_

Since I am Prussia the Awesome, I get to go first! So where does an awesome person like me even begin? Well I should start on the day after Melinda was beaten to a pulp by Belarus (damn bitch). Of course I actually wasn't all that concerned about her, but she'd like me better if I came to see her. It's all part of my awesome plan.

After I had eaten my awesome breakfast of awesome eggs, I hopped to the dollar store to grab the girl some ice cream. She likes ice cream, so imagine the look in her face when she sees me giving some to her-not that I like her smile or anything, it's just good for the awesome plan. "Hey old man!" I called, walking into the office. "The awesome me is here!"

Roman Empire scowled at me, one very similar to that of the Stupid Drunk's. "Gilbert, you're going to have to come back another time," he said, trying to push me back through the door.

"Why? Can't take the awesomeness that is me?" I asked in all complete seriousness.

He finally manged to push me through and closed the door behind him. "Only family and dorm mates are allowed to visit right now."

I frowned. "But she's my girlfriend!"

"You'll have to wait," he said again, returning back inside.

I was left there in the hall, feeling incredibly disappointed. I seriously wanted to see her-you know, for the plan! And I had also brought this big ass tub of ice cream! What am I suppose to do now, eat it? I sighed and started to make my way to the park. Eating it would have to do. And besides, I haven't been to the park in forever, which is really shocking.

When the school was open only to countries, I would go to that awesome tree there every day and just spend hours doing whatever. Now that I think about it, it wasn't until this school year started did I actually spend complete days on the school campus. That is really un-awesome.

I laid there, under the tree, eating away at the ice cream. It was just plain vinilla, not even the french kind (the idea of eating french ice cream reminds me of this one time I came back to the dorm and Francis was laying naked on the floor with nothing but an ice cream carton over his head-the dude was completely sober, by the way). Did I mention that the ice cream wasn't half bad?

I can actually see why she eats this stuff all the time, it's nearly as good as beer-nearly. It's funny, sitting here under the tree thinking about beer and drunk Francis makes me remember the last time I was here. It was September-I think-and I had just been dozing a bit when Melinda just randomly shows up. I can't really remember what I was thinking about at the time; all I know is that one minute I'm letting her play with Gilbird, and the next she's hugging me after giving me a life lesson.

Seriously, it was weird. It's so weird that I can't stop thinking about it! The way she was seemingly able to understand by feelings and relate to them herself. Like a therapist-not that Ludwig had ever thrown me in therapy, I mean, therapy is for crazy saps! But her being a Canadian therapist isn't what I keep thinking about. It was when she hugged me.

I have hugged like hundreds of women, and each time it's the same: press them closer to you, enjoy the feeling of their body against yours (especially the boobs), and then move you hand downwards (If you catch my drift). But when Mel hugged me, I was afraid that she would let go and leave me. So I held her tight to my chest, scared that her very existence was only in my grasp. Hell, I wasn't even concerned about the boob part! It was like just for that one moment, the world consisted of just the two of us.

"Hey Gilbert, glad I found you!" I groaned at the voice. Not him, I do not want to talk to anyone right now, especially him and Francis. "I know what you're thinking and all I can say is Francis is not here with me."

Damnit! I hate it when he does that! "Alright Antonio," I muttered, keeping my eyes closed. "You have 2 minutes of my awesome time."

He sat down next to me crossed legged. "I just want to ask you about yesterday."

"What about it?"

"Well it's just that you seemed really concerned about Ottawa."

I sighed. "Yeah, and?"

"And I found that odd, considering the fact that your plan is still in motion. Unless . . ." he trailed off, an action that really pisses me off.

I scowled and opened my eyes. "Damnit Antonio! Just spit it out!"

"Unless the plan isn't in action anymore."

I laughed. "Why wouldn't it be in action anymore? It's an awesome one that I came up with myself!"

"Because you love her."

"Love who?"

"Melinda you idiot! The girl who's sitting in the hospital right now because she got kidnapped on your date!"

"Are you blaming me for what happened?"

"Are you?" He glared me down, challenging me to deny it. Look, I would love to point out that most of the people involved blamed themselves in one form or another. But because I am awesome, I know better than to think that.

"Hell no, there's no way I could possibly blame myself for what happened!"

"Well then, do you love her?"

"Yes-no! I mean-" I groaned, burying my face in my hands. I hate it when he tricks me like that. "I have no fucking idea!"

Spain sighed and leaned against the tree, telling me to calm down. After a minute of taking deep breaths (a remedy prescribed by Dr. Antonio), I was finally in a mellow state. "Okay, where do we start?" He wondered out loud. Oh Gott, is he really going to help me? "Let's start with how your body reacts when you see her."

"Um okay . . ." Only un-awesome people would start at such an awkward topic. "Well my heart beat picks up a little and I get really ho-"

"Alright!" he said, clapping his hands together. "That was going awkward places a little too quickly. How would you describe her?"

"Describe her?"

"Yeah, like, her hair." I thought for a second. "And God help you if you use the word awesome."

Damn him. "Well it's really soft, and it smells really nice," I said. "I kinda like how it frames her face. It makes her look really aw-" Spain shot me a glare. "-cute."

"And how do you feel knowing that she's in the clinic right now?"

"A little bad I guess. I mean, it wasn't very awesome of me to not realize that she was in trouble. And when she was gone, I got so mad at her-like it kinda hurt-that I didn't even think that something was wrong."

Antonio nodded, taking time to think it over for a second. "You heart beats picks up when you see her, you think that she looks cute, and you feel guilty for what happened . . ." He gave it another second of thought. "I know what you are."

"Say it," I demanded. "Say it out loud."

"You're in love."

It was silent for a second. "Seriously? That's the best you got?"

"Yeah, all the evidence points to it." He stood, ready to walk away.

"But I'm not in love with her!" I yelled.

He looked down at me with his evil look. Many of you may not know this, but Spain is similar to Russia in the sense that he's two faced. The other countries just see him as a relatively stern guy to all but Romano, but he's truthfully very evil sometimes. "Prove it."

I got to my feet. "How?"

"Go through with your plan, and soon." He started to walk away, waving good bye to me like a cool guy. Come on, you have to admit, the guy was badass when he wanted to be!

I bit my lip. That was totally not awesome of him! I grabbed my ice cream and began marching off to some other place. There was no way I would do something as stupid as fall in love.

Cause I'm awesome like that. Right?

_Russia_

I woke up the next morning very early. Like, it must have been around 5 am; kind of early. I went over the events of yesterday for what must have been the twentieth time. _Why does my sister have to get in the way of absolutely everything in my life?_ I thought irritably.

It was true though: Belarus always ruined absolutely every relationship I'd ever tried to have. A couple of years ago, when I'd tried to become friends with Italy and Romano, Belarus came in behind me and must've done something to scare the shit out of both of them. We had been so close to becoming allies too-pft, not like _I_ was scaring them or anything.

Poor Ella, she was in such a bad spot . . . We couldn't get remotely close to each other without Natalia coming to get her or her friends. Why couldn't they take care of themselves like she could? Ella was always rushing off to save them or to help them with something. It was very endearing actually. If there is one thing I valued, it was loyalty. Even if directed in the wrong direction, there was pride in loyalty. That was one reason I like the Baltic states. Even if they never liked me much, they always worked hard.

I took the necklace from underneath the collar of my shirt and looked at it for a while. The golden circle with its fierce face . . . for some reason, even when she first gave it to me, the metal itself felt warm. It's kind of like her- always warm. I haven't taken it off willingly since she first gave it to me. I took it off only to shower, but it felt unnatural, almost wrong without it. It was a comfortable weight there against my chest, always there, like I know Ella will be. I turned it over in my hands and looked at the description. I still had no idea what it meant. Was it even in Spanish? What if it was in ancient Aztec or something? How was i ever supposed to figure out what it meant? maybe I should ask her...

I was so ecstatic that MY beloved capital returned his feelings. She wasn't seem to be affected by me as most others were. She was so cute, always smiling~ except when she was about to hurt someone, then she just looked absolutely murderous; I smiled at this. That girl could really wield a pipe. No one else appreciated its worth as a weapon, but I was really glad I gave it to her, she puts it to good use. Its such a shame I can't be with her openly, I would be proud to have a girl like that on my arm, strong and . . . so cute and such a good kisser . . .

There was a small _click_-the sound of the door being unlocked-as my door opened. The slight form of Lithuania stumbled into my room. What was he doing h-oh, right: he has my dry-cleaning . . .

He looked straight at me and flinched a little before squeaking, "I brought your clothes from the laundry, Mr. Russia!" He obediently laid my clothes on my bed before asking, "What are you doing up so early?"

Then I looked at the clock on my bedside table; it was seven AM . . . how long had I been thinking? I let out a little sigh: this isn't the first time I'd lost track of time thinking of that beautiful green eyed capital.

"Just doing some thinking Toris . . ." I watched as Toris began to flit about cleaning things or fixing up others. I thought back to that time when I'd thought Ella and Liet here were together . . . a ridiculous thought really. They still hung out together though. It was well known that in their free time, Mexico City, Egypt and Lithuania were like a trio of hired mercenaries, doing peoples' dirty work when they were bored. I wonder how close they had gotten . . .

_Liet_

I finally arrived at Ivan's room, glad because his massive clothes were really heavy. I unlocked the door like I always did when I brought his laundry, and imagine my surprise when I saw him awake there. I squeaked so loud I sounded like Latvia. Yea, not my proudest moment. But its weird, Ivan is _never_ awake this early: he enjoys sleeping in almost all the time. Maybe something was bothering him? When I asked about it, he told me he had been thinking. That's curious, most things never trouble him enough to interrupt precious sleep, something must be very wrong . . .

I set about cleaning things up like I usually do on weekends. I mean, I'm not technically a slave anymore, but it wouldn't do to get on Russian's bad side. I was rather startled when he asked me a question from his spot on his bed: "So, Lithuania," he began, "What's with you and Mexico City?"

I stumbled, a blush staining my face, and quickly looked away. "What do you mean by that?" So many thoughts flooded my head at that moment, before I realized that he probably didn't mean . . . like, me _with _Mexico City if you know what I mean.

"Have you been in contact with her lately?"

I sighed, considerably calmer than I had been a few seconds ago. "Well, I guess so. We still go out on our little missions together with Gupta occasionally, you know, whenever the situation arises." I said, trying to steer the conversation away.

"Is it fun to do things like that Lithuania?" His tone was scaring me now, he looked almost hungry for information. I recognized my predicament: he was trying to find something out. Knowing this, I'm pretty sure he would succeed because I am pretty damn scared . . .

I thought back to our many misadventures. In every one, we always had a hoot. In truth, the three of us had actually grown quite close. Gupta, with his constant stoicism and witty remarks no one usually gets to hear; Ella, with her crazy (and sometimes adorable) antics. I don't understand it myself, but I am sometimes scared of Ella, but then again, sometimes were the best of buds . . . Her anger has never been aimed at me though, and I'm very grateful of that. It inspired an odd feeling in me, being with her. Like I always need to keep her happy-I sometimes felt like that for Ivan, but that was in fear of my life. With Ella, it's like I need to do it, but just because I want to . . .

"I guess so . . ." I said, trailing off. Russia's smile faded just a little bit.

"I know that look. What are you thinking about?" Oh lord . . . do I actually tell him? I went through everything in my head. For some reason I felt as if I could trust him; he'd been very placid lately, and that look on his face . . . made him seem genuinely curious.

Damnit all, not the puppy eyes. Ivan's puppy eyes were like a weapon, you can't say no!

"Nothing much, just Gupta and . . ." I swallowed a little bit here " Ella."

"Why do you say her name like that, Toris? You sound sad. Is something wrong?"

I stuttered, "N-no, nothing's wr-wrong, nothing at all!" Oh dear, his face just took on that shadowed look . . . Is it just me or did the room just get like, 10 degrees cooler?

"You're lying Lithuania, I can tell. Now-" he twirled around a semi-replacement pipe he had pulled out of the wall in his hand. "What is it that's really bothering you?"

Damnit . . . I exploded, "Ok ok ok, well it's just that Ella is a strong girl and-and-and HOLY SHIT I THINK I HAVE A CRUSH ON HER!" I realized exactly what I had just spilled the second after I said it. Before I could see Russia's expression change, I charged out of the room in fear of my life. Russia was going to kill me, I knew it, but he could do it at a later date.

_Russia_

I was left in my empty dorm, sitting on the edge of my bed with a perplexed expression. If Lithuania really had a crush on Ella, what would happen when he found out that Ella and I were dating? I really cared for the Baltics-after all, they _had_ worked for me for several years.

But with Belarus around, would Lithuania EVER find out we were together? How long would we have to keep our relationship a secret? Would Belarus ever stop stalking me?

All this questions flowed through my brain. I sighed, "F . . . M . . . L." and flopped back onto my pillows, falling asleep to the memory of the warm girl in my arms and her tongue in my mouth.

I never knew Hispanics were so damn good at kissing. I mean, I expected something: after all, she was related to Spain, the Country of Passion. But at _French_ kissing? Had to admit, that was a bit unexpected. And she tasted reeeeeally really good, too. It must be all that exotic, spicy food she likes to eat. . . .

You know what? Who cares? She's a damn good kisser and I'm perfectly fine with that.

_England_

"I really appreciate you giving me a hand with all this Seychelles," I said, signing the last paper in the stack. I say this to her almost everyday, mostly since she's always giving me a hand with my presidential duties. But today was special. Roman Empire had released me from the clinic after spending the night and I know that I needed to do something for Ella. The girl had just gone off and risked being expelled from the school to save her friend. The least I could do is give her a pardon.

My colony shrugged. "It's alright Iggy," she said, gathering the papers into a neat stack. "With all the states and capitals here, you've been quite over worked."

I nodded and took another sip of my tea. I couldn't deny it, the days had been busier since all the new students arrived. "Yeah and there's one thing I just don't get." I poured myself another cup of tea. I actually had no idea why I'd brought this up, but it would be either with her or Francis, and trust me, you do not want girl advice from him.

Seychelles pulled up a chair to my desk. "Well let's hear about it," she said eagerly, placing her chin on her hand.

"Well there's this one girl whom I'm always mean to-with good cause of course-but no matter what I do to push her away, she is always kind to me."

For some odd reason, she looked cheerful as she suggested, "Well I think that this girl likes you."

I laughed, spitting some of my tea (how ungentlemanly of me). "So you think that Ottawa likes me?" I demanded, still laughing slightly.

The girl frowned in reply. Without another word, she stood abruptly and left, leaving me to wonder what her problem was. I mean seriously, what was she thinking? That I liked her?

. . .

Oh bloody hell! Why does this always happen to me? Whenever someone gets close to me, they either betray me (Alfred), harass me (Francis), pretend to be someone they aren't (Ottawa), or fall in love with me (Seychelles, latest girl added to my list of admirers). Goddammit! Can't someone not leave me alone here? "Arthur?" a hushed voiced asked as the door to the dorm closed behind him.

I didn't even need to turn and look. "Hey Matthew," I greeted. "How is Ottawa today?" I share a door with him and Alfred, so naturally, I have to ask questions about this, even though it would be my preference to not even think about her.

"She's doing a lot better," he said, taking a seat on his bed. "Roman Empire says that she can leave in a week or two." I noticed how tired he looked as he rubbed his temples. Poor guy, he had not been getting enough sleep lately. Plus he's been getting a lot of stress from the other Canadians, all of them complaining one way or another about his capital. About what, I have no idea.

Like a good friend, I took a seat next to him and rubbed his back. Although he is Alfred's twin and he was once my colony, we both acknowledge the fact that Francis is his older brother not me. "What's bothering you?" I asked.

He mumbled something inaudible before spilling his guts. "God, I was so worried that something like this was going to happen to her," he said. "All my life, that girl has been harassed by her brothers and sisters, especially Prince Edward's Island and Charlottetown. The girl has no people skills and has barely known anyone expect Me, Alfred, and D.C. And mon Deiu! Prussia of all people is now dating her and Francis gave me heads up that Paris has his eyes on Mel as well!" He hurried his face in his hands.

Deep inside, I was kind of pissed off. I still didn't like the girl, but the idea that Prussia, the guy who stole her from me, was now dating her just infuriates me! How could she just get over me that quickly? Even after showing me that she understands, that fairies do exist, that I am NOT crazy. At that moment, on that day, I had seriously considered giving her a chance, hearing her side of Prussia's crazy sex tale. I had her right in the position to talk to me too! I had all of the benches step up so that we could dance and I was going to ask her. But then Alfred came and totally ruined the mood! Then the next day, he comes screaming down the hallway, saying, "Dude, Prussia totally just hooked up with you're girlfriend!"

Not that I'm jealous or anything (you bloody wankers!).

"I wouldn't worry about her," I comforted. I grit my teeth at this next part. "I think she has liked Prussia for quiet some time now."

Matthew laughed. "Knowing her, she probably got herself caught up in some crazy law breaking plan." He looked at me and smiled. "I remember this one time when she was little, Alfred taught her all these inappropriate phrases. I didn't know how to explain them to her, so I just made up explanations."

Well, what do you know! The chap and her share a tendency to tell random stories at random places! "Like what?" I asked, curious to how he cleaned up that one.

He placed a finger on his chin, thinking. "Well there is one I know for sure," he said. "She described D.C. and her as being her 'friends with benefits'-" My heart skipped a beat. "-and I had to tell her that it meant 'friends who help each other'."

Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit! Bloody hell! That's what she meant! When I asked her what her connection to Prussia was, she said 'friends with benefits'! She meant he helped her, not had sex. God, I'm such an idiot! "Arthur. . . Is something wrong?" I looked at Matthew. There was a glint of worry in his eyes.

I sighed and rubbed my temples. "Mattie, I just realized a big mistake I made."

He nodded, now rubbing my back. We subconsciously switched places in this comfort-and-comforted situation. "Do you think that you can fix it?"

This is why I like him so much. He never asks any unnecessary questions. I nodded. "Probably, but . . ." My mind trailed off to her and Prussia. They were a couple now, and I still have no idea what his intentions were in the first place. "I don't know if it'll be worth it."

"You'll know when it will."

I gulped. "Yeah." I don't even know if I want to try and fix this. Does Ottawa even want me back in her life again? What if she's perfectly happy with that good-for-nothing-German? But what if Prussia's hurting her? What if she's not happy with him?

What if she loves me?

From years of dealing with Alfred, I know the best way to do this. Just wait on the sidelines, observe the person in question until you have evidence pointing to something. Don't let them know that anything on your side of things has changed.

I bit my lip. Please let everything be alright. I don't want her hurt while I try to figure this out.

_Germany_

I plopped back onto my bed, staring at the white, rather unattractive ceiling. It'd been a hard day today: I'd gone to the store to by more potatoes (cuz you all know I can't rely on Bruder or Opa for this kinda thing) and found Rome, tiny little Rome, trying to carry the largest, most gargantuan tub if chocolate-chip-cookie-dough-maple-syrup-flavored ice cream that I thought I'd ever see in my life. That thing must've weighed twice as much as she did

It was really sweet of her to get that for Melinda in the Canadian's time of need, but it looked like her arms were going to break. I'd dashed forward and grabbed the thing from her before she fell over. She's smiled at me and said, "Ve~ Thank you, Luddy! Whatcha doin here?"

"Um, I was going to . . ." What the hell was I gonna say? 'I'm here to buy potatoes?' That sounded way too stupid. I glimpsed the row of flowers they always have in the front of grocery stores. ". . . buy you flowers?" Thank Gott she didn't notice it was a question.

"Ve~ Really? That's sweet Luddy!"

"Ja?"

She giggled then and imitated me: "Mmhmm, Ja~"

There was definitely a squiggly at the end; that combined with her adorable Italian accent just made me blush. She didn't notice and instead kept talking. "But I have to get this to Melinda before Grandpa Rome makes me go get my stuff."

"Oh, ok, how are you getting home?"

"Well, I was running away from Barce and somehow ended up here."

I face-palmed. She tilted her head at this, that quizzical look on her trademark Italian features. "I'll drive you back." I had insisted. She held no complaints, and instead dashed off towards my car with a loud, happy, "WAAAA~!" She claimed a spot on top of the trunk and swung her legs over the edge happily as she waited for me to get over there.

Rome blabbed all the way there: "I like ice cream, do you like ice cream Luddy? I do too, but I like pastaaaa~ better - OOOHLOOKABIRDIIIIIIE! Gosh does everyone else in Germany drive so slow? You can totally drive faster -" She stuck half her body out the window and yelled with a tremendous wave, "FRATELLO!" Romano was riding by on his favorite cherry red Vespa. I thought she was going to fall out, waving both her arms in the air like that with nothing but her (nice, round) thighs against the car door. Oh shit, what if the door fell open? I locked the car doors twice, just in case.

He drove right up to the window and screamed into the car, "Potato Bastard what the hell is my sister doing in your car?"

"Fratello, he's taking me back!" she screamed over the howl of other cars and motor cycles of the like. "I bought ice cream for Mindy today!"

"That's still no excuse!" But Romano sighed and said to himself, "Better than if you were with Tomato Bastard Two." He crouched and looked at me through the window, right at me, with that amber glare. "My sister has to be back in her dorm by 4:32 and _e lei ancora meglio essere EXTRA VIRGINE quando torno_!"

I thought two things as he drove away (and Rome screamed out the window after him "But I didn't buy olive oil!"): first, why such a specific time? And second, what the hell did he think I was gonna do to her? But she climbed back into the car and sat down again, continuing to talk like nothing had interrupted her in the first place.

We had just delivered the tub of ice cream to Melinda and Matthew and I'd turned around to find Rome gone. Melinda added as she dug into the ice cream, "She went to got get her stuff to the car."

And that was what brought me to this point: staring at the ceiling, thinking about the little Italian. The one memory from earlier that stuck out the clearest was that giggle and the "ja". I smiled to myself as I remembered the sound, so sweet and . . . small? No, I don't think that's the word.

I was still thinking about the proper way to describe it when Opa walked into my room. "Ludwig! You're late for practice!" he shouted angrily as he scrutinized his clipboard.

I hadn't noticed him, and instead thought aloud to myself, "How can I get her to say it again?"

"Take her on a date."

"Opa?" I shot up from the bed.

He was still looking at his clipboard nonchalantly. He lifted the page to look at the next as he said, "You heard me."

"You . . . want me to take Rome . . . on a date?"

"Ja."

". . . . . . Why?"

"It'll make her happy."

". . . . Since when have you ever cared if-"

"Rome is Italian; Happy Italian is good; Happy Italian runs really fast; Fast Italian equals Happy Opa."

"Figures." I said to myself with a sideways glance. I asked him directly as he began to write things on a slip of paper, "So you want me to take Rome on a date so she'll run faster?"

"That's the basic picture, yes."

"Kinda selfish, doncha think, Opa?"

"So? She runs fast enough, we win races and trophies and titles and medals."

"Scared Italian runs just as fast as Happy Italian." I pointed out, not that i wanted to cause little Natale harm.

"Better to give the horse a pat than a whip."

"Interesting analogy."

"We keep the Happy Italian in better shape if we treat her right."

"So . . . ?"

"GO ASK HER OUT!"

I hopped to my feet and nearly sprinted out the door. He put a firm hand on my shoulder as I passed him and said, "And Ludwig, we make her happy right?"

"Um . . . duh."

He handed me the slip of paper and patted (read: slapped) my back. I kept running, out into the halls, searching the empty hallways, wandering the campus. On my journey, I looked at the paper he'd handed me. On it was a list of instructions:

_1. Expensive, authentic Italian restaurant (you pay EVERYTHING, Ludwig)_

_2. Get the girl lots of expensive flowers that make her pretty and happy_

_3. Do what she wants to do, no matter what, as long as she's happy_

_4. Give her friends money so they can all go shopping together; girls like $$$$_

_5. And Ludwig, call the girl by her actual NAME: not "Rome" or "Roma", it's "Natale" or "Nattie" or "Natty~" or whatever else, got it?_

I sighed. This was going to make me go bankrupt, wasn't it? Having no luck in the hall, I decided to run to her dorm.

Ella, Monty, Justin, and Melinda were in there, with no signs of the Italian capital. "Whatcha doin Germany?" Ella asked.

"Where's Rome?"

"On the plane." Ella said, not looking up from the Russian Literature book she was reading.

"To Italy." Melinda added as she planted another glomping spoonful of ice cream from Rome's present into her mouth.

"Italy? When's she coming back?"

"November 1st."

I checked my watch: it was 5. Damnit, now I had to wait a month. Opa was not going to be happy.

_Barce_

I was walking down pristine white halls, with a goal at the end of this hall. Oh dear, why can't _mi preciousa _Roma love me like I love her? I bet it's all that gringo's fault. He has Roma not knowing what she wants. But I shall leave her with no doubt in my mind of what she wants~ Yes, she WILL want me! The passionate Spaniard~! Because I love her _con todo mi corazon! _

She is just so perfect in every way, from her shiny hair to her tiny feet to her little paws. She can go from adorable to even more adorable when she's mad in 10 seconds flat. She is so full of life and emotion, why does she even consider liking that . . . German over me? He is so pale and boring . . . What could she see in him? Oh well, I WILL prove to Roma that I am the man she wants.

Even if I have to prove it to her everyday I will! Even if I must kidnap her everyday and kiss her senseless until she believes me. Yea . . . that would be nice~! Even if I have to tear her from that _cabrone's _arms and then never let her leave. Even if I have to make sure that German was some how effaced from the planet to never be seen again by my lovely princessa then I would. If I had to follow her around day and night with a protective streak to match my cousin Mexico's then I would! Man, I _will_ show that girl the reason Spain is the Country of Passion.

Yes . . . A plot began to form in my mind: I would sweep my _dulce_ Roma into my arms and I will kiss her so hard, that even the people she hates will feel pleasure. Hmm, maybe I could borrow a thing or two from France's people. I believe they have a name for their own method of kissing? He explained it to me once, and I believe that it shall be very appropriate. My arms slung around her thin waist, savoring the very taste of the girl of my dreams. She only needs to acknowledge the fact that we will be together and my plans to French kiss the girl into oblivion will go much smoother.

The whole scene swirled together in my mind: there is my Roma, back at school, waiting for me under that droopy green tree. She shoots me a dazzling smile, a smile which soon turns into a seductive smirk. She throws her arms around me-oh yes, my sweet Roma~-with such force that we're knocked to the ground. We kiss each other with so much force we have no idea what way is up or which was down. I could feel the curves of my _querido_ and then she slips her hand under my shirt, feeling me as well. After a few minutes of enjoying the taste of _mi dulce _Roma, I would pick her up bridal style and take her back to my room where I'm sure we could enjoy ourselves a little more privately. Oh, _dulce_ indeed, she will taste so sweet I might just get a cavity. Hmm~

My thoughts were interrupted by the accented voice of hermano's friend, yelling at me. "Dépêcher! Mon ami, the plane is leaving soon!" France looked like he was in a hurry.

He shoved something in my hands and led me toward a door to the runway where I see Antonio waiting there for us with an odd look on his face. "Are you sure this is a good idea, hermanito?"

My thoughts went back to earlier. I will do anything to win over Roma. "Si, I am sure. Now lets go!"

_Natale_

Natale didn't like airports: they were big and busy and noisy. It had taken them a long time to finally make there way onto the plane, as per an incident where they almost didn't give their luggage over earlier (the siblings nearly breaking into tears). But, once the whole process was explained to them, it all went much smoother. Now she was just tired, and so was Italy. Roma curled up by the window seat, staring out at the dark runway. She had almost fallen asleep when the plane started moving, jerking them both fully awake with a simultaneous "Waa!" But Rome thought she was still asleep when she looked out the window and saw something shocking: was that Barcelona?

It was indeed, for outside of the airplane on the runway was one of those automated luggage carrying carts with Spain driving and France next to him. But the worst part was that somehow Barcelona was on top of the cart holding up a banner that said in big words "Te amo, ROMA~~!" She looked back to Feli and saw that the sleepy Italian had fainted-whether from the scene outside or the plane's sudden movements, she had no idea.

Natale looked back out the window, meeting Barce's gaze. He gave a huge smile holding the banner up higher, as if trying to make sure the girl had seen it. The plane started to speed up a bit, now turning to the official runway. Barce yelled something at Antonio who looked doubtful but then sped up in an attempt to keep up with the plane. But then, as he turned the corner, Antonio must've been going at it too fast because with no footing and the angle they were going at . . .

Barcelona lost his grip and flew off the top of the cart, into the field, getting tangled in his own banner as he barrel-rolled away due to momentum.

Rome gasped and put her face against the window, trying to see if Barce was okay, but it was then that the plane decided to take off, leaving the girl without knowing of his condition. But she got over it, leaning back into her seat contentedly. "He's Barcelona, I'm sure that thick skull will prevent any harm." she mumbled before going to sleep.


End file.
